


The Magnetic North

by REINDOWN



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23475913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/REINDOWN/pseuds/REINDOWN
Summary: He sometimes leans out his window, the blanket of thick night wrapped firmly around him with only the face of the moon to speak with. He makes conversation with the craters of her eyes, but she doesn't reply, his words lost on an evening breeze. He sometimes wonders if magic has interfered with his system, as the moon wordlessly beckons him out. She tells him to step right out into oblivion - don't look down.
Comments: 21
Kudos: 76





	1. And He Thought, Be All My Sins Remembered

"To be, or not to be."

Artemis let his feet dangle from the window of his bedroom, perched precariously on the thin ledge boundary between the light and blue-black darkness. The cool night breeze picked up and took his hair with it so that a black fan of thin locks lifted from his eyes. They were a dull blue.

"That is the question," he hummed. He despised how popular that particular part of Shakespeare's work had become over the centuries because it had always been his favourite scene. Hamlet was questioning existence itself, and unlike how so many overpaid, overrated actors had portrayed the scene with morbid cries and despair, Hamlet was calm. "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune," he continued, tipping himself back into the warmth of Fowl Manor, "or to take arms against a sea of troubles. And by opposing – end them." He swayed forwards and came dangerously close to leaning too far out. No, Hamlet was not facing the despairs of no longer wanting to be alive through the torment and heartache he had suffered – he was rationally considering death as an opportunity. Life was by no means the exciting, happy roller-coaster the films always showed. The highs in life were pretty mediocre – a good laugh, once every few days. A sight not encountered before. An embrace with a friend. All ended swiftly, with the approach of betrayal, pain and loss never far round the next corner. Death was an opportunity, to Hamlet, a way out.

"For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death …" he closed his eyes and felt the air pick up again, making his bare feet wriggle. "Puzzles the will, and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others we know not of."

"Artemis," Butler's hesitant voice cut through his monologue. He spoke calmly, but, knowing the bodyguard well, Artemis could sense the lace of tension to his words. Artemis swung his legs back inside and smiled lightly at his manservant.

"It's a nice night," he said, landing silently on the carpet like a cat. "The air is cool, and there's a soft breeze bringing fresh air."

"Not sure on the new hobby, Artemis. You know, leaning out of windows." As Artemis returned to his desk and flicked the lamp back on, Butler casually closed the window. It put him (slightly) at ease. "Is, uh, everything alright, Artemis?" The young man looked up, knowing an innocent expression was beyond his emotional range and so instead opted for a gentle smirk – much more in character.

"I just wanted to take a short respite between this essay and the next one I have to do, that's all."

"It's late, you should get some rest." Butler tried to insist, but he knew if he pushed too hard, Artemis would somehow manage to shrug him off and change the subject.

"I'm on a roll, old friend. I found quite a few references that will be useful to this particular paper. I'm finding the trouble with University is, apparently, my own knowledge is completely irrelevant. Instead, I need the exact name and book reference for every fact I state. It would be easier to write the entire research paper I want under one of my pseudonym names, and then reference myself. I'm seriously considering it."

"Rest time, I think. Give that big old brain a break."

"Later, Butler. It'd be a waste of perfectly good time to take to bed now."

"You'll thank me tomorrow when you're not dozing off in one of your lectures again," Butler commented and noticed the slight frown that appeared on his young charge's face. Artemis began flicking through one of the open textbooks on his desk.

"There's a difference between dozing off and not listening in the first place. The man was quoting practically _all_ of the Leviathan. I might as well have read it myself at home." He paused, then corrected himself. "Re-read. And that class wasn't essential to my degree. Realism theories of global political affairs sounded like it would be much more intriguing than it turned out. The lecturer said nothing novel."

"Have you made any friends at university yet?" Artemis didn't answer but Butler spotted how his lips tightened. "I take it that's a 'no'."

"Plenty of people talk to me, if you're worried." The boy's tone was clipped and terse.

"Well I suppose that's a start," Butler chuckled, "At least you're not totally unapproachable."

"They have warped intentions, Butler. They know who I am, they know my father, they particularly know how much gold sits in my bank account." Well, they might have an inkling.

"A lot of them will be thinking about that, yes." Butler nodded, trying to tackle this subject carefully. Artemis and his 'friends' were a touchy subject. "But if you turn them all away, you'll turn away the ones with good intentions, too."

"Hmm." Artemis replied without conviction. "Butler, if you're going to insist on staying up with me then would you mind making some coffee?" It was Butler's turn to frown. "And could you open the window? It's stuffy in here."

Butler was about to remind Artemis that they'd long since installed air conditioning into every major room in the Fowl manor, until he remembered that Artemis had put them in himself. The huge man wasn't the type of person that sighed often, but he made sure to heave his breath in resignation before he left the room.

As the door handle clicked back into place, Artemis let the book settle in his lap and turned his gaze to the window once more – the window Butler had left closed. Most likely on purpose, Butler didn't 'forget' simple details like that. Artemis could still see the shadow of an oak tree in the grounds surrounding the manor and the horizon sparkled with the yellowed lights of a distant town. A similar tiny light began to spark on the faery communicator on his desk.

"Be all my sins remembered." He mumbled.

When Butler returned with a steaming coffee, he found Artemis slumped in his chair, textbook slowly falling from his lap. The scene instinctively gave Butler a fright - too much time spent living on the edge - but after a pause, a smile lifted one side of his face. He set the cup down, rescued the textbook, saved the work on the laptop and then turned off all the devices on the desk till all the electronic whining slowly whirred out of existence.

"It's not possible," Artemis hummed, startling the big man leaning over him. He nearly knocked over the coffee cup. "Not today."  
"Artemis," Butler called, gently tapping his shoulder. "Artemis, let's get you to bed." Butler heard the door click and felt the presence of someone behind them, watching. He glanced back to see Artemis Fowl Senior resting on the door-frame.

"Fast asleep," Artemis the elder chuckled, "sleeping like only a teenager can. Let me help you." He stood on the other side of young Artemis and between them, they gently shuffled the limp frame from the office chair onto the bed, bringing the duvet up to his chin. "Although, I suppose this is his last year as a teenager." The rustling around the young man made him stir quietly, but his eyes remained shut.

"He has been overworking himself."

"I've noticed. I can't really understand why. University should be easy for him. These research papers and essays he's doing, they're child's play. I've been trying to figure out what's making him look so exhausted for a couple of weeks now." A trademark Fowl smirk lifted the man's cheeks. "Maybe it's a woman."

Butler wished it were that simple. His expression must have said as much because the elder Fowl laid a hand on Butler's shoulder. "The bags under your eyes get heavier every day. Look after yourself, old friend, and don't worry too much."

Butler smiled broadly, "It's my job to worry." Artemis Fowl Senior laughed, only to stifle it with a hand over his mouth when his son rolled over. Instead of deigning the butler with an answer, the elder Artemis simply winked, leaving the door ajar as he left.

Butler trod quietly after him, giving his charge one last frown before he flicked the lights off.

Once the footsteps faded into nothing, Artemis' eyes opened. He pulled the heavy sheets away from his legs and began to undress. Once he stood in only his underwear, the window called him over again. He cracked it open, leaning out into the cold night.

 _I always thought I had a purpose. I was going to make father proud. I was going to raise the Fowl empire from its ashes. I was going to be the head of the Fowl household. I don't want any of that any longer – gold doesn't matter. But I don't know what does. All this thinking I do … it has only ever torn things apart._ Over on his desk, the only light still blinking was his faery communicator. He picked it up and ran the gold ring down his finger until the yellow blinking flickered green. With a tap, Holly's recorded voice began to echo in his empty room.

"Hey there, mudboy. You been too busy to call recently? The student life must be hard, eh? All that hard work you've got to do." She chuckled, the sound tinny from the tiny device, but pleasant. "I'm doing fine, since you haven't asked. And I have a couple of days off now so I'll be paying you a visit. Make sure you're not out partying! I don't want to waste a good visa. Anyway. I guess I'll see you soon. Bye!"

Butler always made sure he was the first person awake in the Fowl household. He'd usually have completed his rounds, done half an hour in the gym, showered, and cleaned the parts to his pistol, all before Artemis awoke. Today was different. Today was unusual, like many of the previous days had been. Upon his rounds, which was always his first task, he found that Artemis' car had already gone. Immediately, Butler abandoned his rounds and checked the house for his charge. He saw that Artemis' car wasn't the only thing to have vanished: his bag, his laptop, and all the textbooks that had been strewn across his desk the night before had also gone. Looked like the young master had set off particularly early today. Butler recalled the timetable of Artemis' lectures that he had memorised … _Very early,_ he grimaced. He didn't have a lecture until past noon. Maybe Artemis shouldn't have gone to university – it was undoubtedly tiresome for one of the brightest minds on the planet to have to listen to hours-worth of whacks spouting theories and articles, most of which had been written by the young man years ago. Not only that, but he was surrounded by adolescents: something Artemis really should be familiar with, but he wasn't. Butler's charge spent the majority of his youth debating with and commanding adults. His two best friends were more than twice his age, Holly more than four times. For a room full of curious teenagers, privileged middle-class young adults and even knowing lecturers, Artemis was the centre of their interests. The teenagers read his name splattered in online news articles, the university publications and heard of him through word-of-mouth: a young genius, possibly also involved with the mafia and criminal affairs, a rich boy, a cold, unapproachable vampire. Most of the wealthier families in the area knew of the Fowl estate and history. Either they were an ally to the house, or they had been crushed by the Fowl empire. Either way, the parents of middle-class children had told them to watch out for him. The lecturers themselves gave Artemis curious glances. He was the talk of the staff rooms, his work passed around like a chewing gum packet in a classroom; some even copied sections of it for their own use. Artemis couldn't exist anywhere with the whispers of others following his footprints. A couple of less intelligent students had tried to heckle and cajole him once. Only once.

All this Butler knew was preying on Artemis' mind. Perhaps, years ago, it wouldn't have bothered him at all. Before he had met the faeries, Artemis had full control of his emotions. He could be completely void of empathy whenever he chose. He had a youthful arrogance that meant he paid no mind to the watchful eyes of others. He could be manipulative to get his way; he could cut others down with scathing remarks and feel no guilt for it. The Artemis of today was without a doubt, a better person. But better did not mean happier. In fact, Butler hadn't seen his charge smile for weeks – not genuinely. The old Artemis used to beam every time he checked his accounts. The manservant pondered mentioning this to Holly when he next saw her. The problem, he knew, was that Artemis had no friends his age. He didn't really have anybody to talk to. Artemis respected his father too much to ever show him weakness, and he felt protective enough of his mother to never want to worry her. Butler worried practically every minute of every day, which he suspected had made Artemis feel guilty, and as a result, he gradually started hiding things from him. Holly was a thousand miles away, Foaly couldn't be trusted with anything remotely sensitive and Mulch … was Mulch.

None of Artemis' close friends were doing any good for the boy. He needed an escape outside of Fowl manor. Butler wasn't sure any female could handle Artemis Fowl II and yet he dearly hoped one could. There was nothing like young love to melt a cold heart.

A clack of hard heels sounded on the rosewood staircase. Butler closed the security box by the door that he had been tampering with and looked up. Artemis Fowl Senior glided down the steps, dressed in a traditional black suit except the stitching of the top blazer pocket was gold. A simple, yet elegant touch.

"Where's our little Arty?" he beamed, checking the wind-up skeleton watch on his wrist for the time.

"He headed out early today."

"I didn't think he had class until after lunch?" Artemis frowned.

"He doesn't." Butler tried to keep the glumness from his voice.

"Ha, it must be," Artemis reached the end of the staircase and rustled for an umbrella on the bronze plated coat rack, decorated either end with lion heads. "A female."

"Tell him to bring her home!" Angeline's voice giggled from upstairs and she appeared still in her nightwear. "What time will you be back, dear?"

"The meeting begins at 10:30." He then grimaced. "I hope to be back before three but … gah, Mr Heartman does like to chatter."

"Take an umbrella, it's forecast to rain." Artemis raised the object in his hand, waving it back at her. "If you finish a bit later, maybe you could meet with Arty at his university and grab something to eat?"

"Good idea, love." Butler opened the door for the head of the household and Artemis gave him a courteous nod.

"Do you mind if I come with you into Dublin, sir?"

"If you're planning to check in with Arty then I'd rather you stay here!" Although he smiled, Artemis' tone was an order. "The young lad is fine on his own. Let him live his university days to the full."

"… Yes … sir." Butler grimaced deeply and stared at the floor. A year ago, he would have said the same to himself. When Artemis started university at 18, he had been all about giving him freedom and independence (from an empty apartment room he'd found across from the lecture halls, armed with various surveillance technology … just in case). Little over 400 days later and he was all about locking the young boy in Fowl manor and smothering him in bullet-proof bubble wrap, just to be sure. Still, he was aware that the threat to Artemis was not external, and definitely not something he could pick off with sniper fire. The irony was that the threat came from Artemis himself, moreover something Butler couldn't figure out: boredom? Now that all their 'world-saving' escapades had ended (hopefully), was Artemis simply bored? Or, was it loneliness? Was the ex-teenage criminal mastermind finding it hard to fit in?

Else, something deeper?


	2. And She Said, Better Once Than Never, For Never Too Late

"And on the basis of this lecture and the previous, along with your own individual essays, the next assignment will be a group task, tackling the effects of Africa's geography on its future political prospects."

The graphite stick in Artemis' mechanical pencil snapped. He lifted his head, horrified at what he was hearing. A _group_ task? He was expected to work with someone else? On an assignment he'd be assessed by? He wanted to stalk down to the front of the hall where a large map of the world hung, grab the lecturer's ridiculous pointy stick and ram it onto the tiny dot called _Dublin._ Not Shanghai. Not Tokyo. _Dublin_. Which, in case the lecturer wasn't aware, was an individualistic culture that promoted independent achievement and competition, not _group_ tasks. If he was going to be assessed as an individual, he wanted his work to be entirely his own. The collective groan that echoed in the hall told Artemis that fifty other students were thinking exactly the same. Well, almost the same. The lecturer ignored the cries of dismay.

"Your individual essays were each written on a particular country within Africa and how climate change would have an effect on their economies going forward. Now I'd like you to combine all that research into an overview of how you expect Africa to change, as well as possible mitigative and adaptive solutions. There's a handout coming around." A sheet of paper passed under Artemis' fingers, but he was still having an intense internal argument with the lecturer on the reasons why this was a terrible idea. Inside his head, the lecturer saw the error in his ways and declared the project an individual assignment. Outside, students were chattering as they waved across the hall in an attempt to recruit potential members to their group.

"I've divided the class into groups as will appear on the board." The despair in the room escalated; only Artemis was unperturbed (assigned groups made it easier for him). The slide changed and the designated groups flashed up one by one.

 _If there's one thing that makes this situation worse,_ thought Artemis bitterly, _it's the fact that he dedicated perhaps ten minutes to making each of those names appear separately._

The class was soon to end, and the groups were beginning to clump into different parts of the room. The sound of chattering built, tasks were divided out and strangers shared phone numbers. Artemis was too irritated to move, already planning swift revenge for his lecturer. Truly, university was doing him no good. He'd taken classes he'd hoped would stretch his intellect and help him solve the world problem of global warming – instead it was just stretching his patience. It turned out he didn't need to move as his group migrated to him.

"You're … Artemis, right?" A tousle-haired young man smiled cautiously, standing on the next row of seats in front so that his eyes were level with Artemis' from where he sat. _Be civil,_ Butler's voice in his head pleaded. Before he could respond, another two people approached – two girls arm in arm.

"Artemis! Do you remember me? I introduced myself a couple of weeks ago." One girl tittered excitedly, her accent only standard English – a strange accent. There was usually a hint of _somewhere_ to an English accent: a Scottish tongue, a northern warmth, a far-southern drawl. She had nothing but a Harry-Potter-esque, middle-class intonation. "My name is Emma, in case you don't remember. And this is my best friend Elizabeth."

"Lizzy, please," Lizzy rolled her eyes. "I hate my full name." Lizzy was short but what she lost in her inconspicuous size, she made up for in the vibrancy of her hair. It was bright pink and tied in a messy bun atop her head. Artemis had seen - or rather, heard - Lizzy around the university. She was difficult to miss, a laugh louder than howling dogs, hair that seemed to change colour every time she walked in the door and even her body language was audacious. She was a stark contrast to the perfect politician's daughter hooked onto her right arm.

"I'm Connor," the quiet Irish lad from before said, extending another one of his cautious but genuine smiles to the girls.

"Have you got whatsapp?!" Lizzy pulled her phone from her bra and Artemis couldn't help how his lip curled in disgust. Luckily, the expression went unnoticed.

"We're supposed to be in teams of five, right?" Emma mused, glancing around. "Who are we missing?" Whilst she looked around the room, Lizzy squinted her eyes (which, Artemis noted, were decorated with huge flicks of eyeliner) at the projected slide.

"Katherina Palmer."

 _Katherina. Like from the Taming of the Shrew,_ Artemis pondered, and as he did so, he laid eyes on a girl with vibrant red hair – bright enough to challenge Lizzy's. She looked lost and was frowning. As she turned to the door and saw most groups beginning to leave, a slight look of panic came over her. She chewed a fingernail.

"Katherina~!" Lizzy bellowed into the hall. Several students raised their eyebrows, and a few made unheard remarks to their friends, some covering their ears in jest to the laughter others. The red head span around and looked hopeful.

"Ah," Connor breathed. "I think that's her."

"Are you Katherina?" Lizzy beamed broadly as the girl hurried over, looking apologetic.

"Sorry, I didn't know anybody." She caught Artemis' eyes and tried to smile; something made him avert his gaze. "Call me Kat."

"Lizzy!"

"Emma."

"Eh, Connor."

Eyes fell expectedly on Artemis, who had by now retrieved his phone and was checking the time with a scornful expression.

"You're Artemis Fowl, right?" Lizzy said loudly, and pointedly. Artemis glanced up and plastered a fake smile on his face.

"Ah, yes. Pleasure to meet you all."

"You too," Emma nodded, curling a strand of straight brown hair over one finger. "To start with, how about we compare individual essays?" She retrieved hers from a laptop carrier. "I conducted mine on Egypt."

"I did mine on Sudan." The pink-head waved hers.  
"Kenya." Connor was still rummaging for his.  
"I uh," Kat flicked through a neatly organised folder, "Tanzania …"

"I also did mine on Tanzania." Artemis sighed, not even bothering to locate his essay. "No matter, I will change to South Africa." Kat's green eyes blinked.

"That means you'll have to re-do all the research!" Lizzy's mouth was so aghast, the piercing in her tongue became visible.

"Yeah, that's a little unreasonable to ask of you." Emma nodded. "We should stick to four case studies."

Artemis waved a hand. "It won't take long to find the research. The lecturer put us into groups to ensure we each had a separate case study. One of us must have changed without letting him know." By process of elimination, Artemis knew who had changed.

"Sorry, I changed. Halfway into the essay I realised I could find more information on Tanzania in terms of bottom-up strategies, so I decided to change countries because I didn't think the professor would mind." Kat looked slightly embarrassed, her eyebrows knitting together. "I'll do the research. I started it on South Africa anyway."

"No, honestly," Artemis sighed aloud. "It'll be faster if I do it." Hindsight was a spectacular thing and in hindsight, that was the wrong thing to say. She looked insulted, even though she didn't rebuke him. Lizzy did that for her.

"Don't be so rude!" Lizzy scolded, thrusting her hands onto her hips. Artemis drummed a finger impatiently, noticing that the room was almost empty now, save for their group.

"That's not what I meant," it was exactly what he meant, "I would rather just get this sorted instead of debating over it."

"Well, if you're sure," Kat looked like she wanted to say something and was biting her tongue reluctantly. Artemis stared her down and she began to chew her lip – he could practically see the cogs in her head spinning. There was something he didn't like about her eyes. They were searching him. He could see her judging him somehow, but for once he felt entirely in the dark. What was she thinking?

"I'm sure. Now, let's get these tasks divided out between us, eh? I'd like to get back to my car before I get a parking ticket."

In truth, Artemis had paid for a day's parking since he had arrived in Dublin ridiculously early in the morning. Fowl manor was situated roughly an hour away from the city centre and he had set off at 5 in the morning. Not even the quaint cafés littering the streets were open yet to serve breakfast, so he had to put up with the small complaining his stomach made until 9am when he eventually found somewhere. In the meantime, he walked over to where he liked to spend most of his free time between lecturers – the area known as Dublin's playground: Phoenix Park. He sought out a bench and laid down a thin jacket he had brought with him to protect the seat of his chinos from the fresh morning mist that wet the wood. Across the field before him, a couple of deer watched him with bright eyes. He closed his eyes and let the morning air chill his skin, making him feel alive.

And this was where Artemis found himself again after his first lecture. He had one more at 2 o'clock, so he had roughly twenty minutes to breathe this fresh air into his lungs and soak up the shadows of the trees he sat under. He couldn't stay in the city for long without needing to find this escape. On the way out of the grandiose stone archway of the university, the two females in his group had chased him down.

"Uh, Artemis!" The one called Emma shouted. He'd heard her the first time, but dearly hoped he could get around the corner before she caught up with him.

"ARTY!" Lizzy screamed, cupping her hands around her face like a megaphone (which she wouldn't have needed). Artemis winced for two reasons: number one, a stranger had called him by a pet name he had grown to find very endearing and two, this Lizzy was not afraid of breaking conventional public behaviour standards. He realised he had to respond and stopped in the street, not even bothering to smile at them. "You walk fast!" Lizzy panted, grabbing his shoulder with overfamiliarity that made Artemis' stomach churn.

"Have you had lunch yet?" Emma stepped into pace beside them and smiled widely without showing her teeth.

"I have," he responded, being careful to remain passive aggressive but not overtly so. He didn't want to cause any trouble. Using a military term Butler often mentioned, he wanted, as much as possible, to be the grey man.

"Do you want to grab a coffee then?" This Emma was still smiling, despite Artemis' curt tone.

"I need to get back to my car."

"You have a car?" Lizzy beamed excitedly. "Like a true adult. Although, I've heard you're pretty well off?"

"Lizzy!" Emma scorned in a whisper.

"What? You don't have to answer if you don't want. I'm just saying what I've heard."

"He's the son of Mr Fowl, of course he's well-off. I have huge respect for your father, Arty."

"Artemis," he winced immediately.

"Sorry, don't you like Arty?"

"I think it's cute," said Lizzy. "But Artemis it is!" She clapped her hands lightly. "Then, show us your car! What is it? Audi? Bentley?"

Artemis knew he wasn't going to escape from these two easily. The little woman was like a fierce Jack Russell, one which wouldn't let go of its toys. "Jaguar XJ," he was getting a headache. Lizzy's mouth dropped open wide again and this time, Artemis noticed her piercing was a bright pink gem.

"Can we have a ride?!" She exclaimed. Her friend pulled her arm again, but Lizzy wouldn't be dissuaded. "Or just look inside!"

"Let's just go for a coffee." Emma interjected quickly. "You've got class later, haven't you? Once you've extended your ticket, we can meet up and discuss this project a bit more."

"I'm not going for coffee." Artemis finally snapped. He heaved a sigh and stopped walking to make direct eye contact with both individually. Even Lizzy managed to shut up for a second when his ice-blue eyes cut into her. "I don't want to go for coffee. I have things to do. If you'll excuse me."

And that was when he finally managed to break off from the irritating women and meander back towards his favourite place.

_Now. Twenty minutes. Time to get some work done._

He unfolded his laptop, a slick silver device with scratches of wear around the joints where Artemis had repeatedly taken the device apart. It wasn't his most up-to-date laptop – he couldn't risk one with faery technology being stolen (he'd learned that lesson), or if one of his alumni managed to get hold of it for long enough to find the laser function. But it was unique, to say the least. The fingerprint scanner immediately gave him access to his desktop and from there, seven new emails flashed up. Usually, he linked emails to his smart watch, but there were some emails he didn't want illuminated for everyone to see. A couple were confirmed transactions, one from a potential business partner, one from his lecturer and one from Foaly that simply said: _checkmate_.

Artemis scowled to himself and checked through a couple of the programmes Foaly was likely to be referring to. His first guess was the manor security cameras, as he'd recently blocked the centaur from a live feed by sending him long loop feeds from the past year that Artemis thought he had connivingly compiled into a realistic story. Loop Artemis even disappeared at 10, and returned at 5, and on weekends Loop Artemis read in the library and played chess. His first guess had been correct and now instead of a live feed from his own house playing across the laptop, a gif of Mulch's behind danced eternally. He tutted and decided to leave the CCTV problem for another day.

His remaining emails blinked at him. One was from Butler saying – check the CCTV. Another was from an address he didn't recognise. He scanned it for potential viruses and then opened the message.

_Artemis_

_I have attached all the research I conducted for South Africa. Please let me know if you need anything._

_Kat_

Since Artemis didn't have any form of social media account, they'd all exchanged emails instead which worked in Artemis' favour – no irritating group chats bleeping every four seconds. Artemis opened the document attached and was impressed with the level of detail and research he found. He checked the time stamps and realised that some of the work had been added less than half an hour ago. She must have done some extra research for him, probably out of a little guilt. Still, his impression of her improved _slightly_. At least she was responsible - and clever, if this piece of work was anything to go by. He grew curious and clicked the icon next to her email to open her account details. She had no images uploaded. No obnoxious 'status' or cover photo. Now even more intrigued, Artemis searched her name on one of the social media platforms he knew of and quickly found her vibrant red hair on the list of profiles.

He scrolled down. She didn't have much on the profile. Two individuals appeared in most photos, likely her best friends. She'd checked into places in Ireland for the past year but looking at her uploaded photo albums showed she'd lived in northern England for a while. There were a couple of holiday albums, too, including Japan where she posed under a blooming sakura tree. She was extremely pretty. He closed her account and decided to reply to the email.

_Katherina_

_Thank you for the research. I'm sure it will be useful. There's plenty of information on South Africa so it won't take me long to do, but I appreciate your help._

_Regards,_

_Artemis_

He was about to shut the lid of his laptop and head over to his next lecture when a familiar tune sounded to indicate he had received another email. It was Katherina's reply.

_Found an article published an hour ago on Cape Town, sorry for the double email, thought it'd be useful as well_

Artemis flicked through the article.

 _No problem._ He paused and an entirely uncharacteristic thought popped into his head. _Would you like to meet for coffee and-_ He typed, and then immediately erased the text, flustered. He sent the email as it was and snapped the laptop shut before he could be taken over by any more unreasonable impulses. _Right, to class,_ he thought, leaving Phoenix Park behind and once more merging into the Dublin crowds.


	3. Self-Love, My Liege, Is Not So Vile A Sin, As Self-Neglecting

The crowds of students hanging around the university grounds were all whispering and pointing, and it took a second for Artemis to realise that – for once – they weren't pointing at him. Maybe his novelty was finally wearing off and people would leave him alone. In any case, he wound through the crowds as best he could without drawing any attention to himself.

"Son!" a familiar voice cried, and the crowds parted like the Red Sea. Artemis' eyes flashed up to see his father waving at him, gleefully. He was completely unperturbed by the attention they were now both garnering. In the first place, his father had all eyes on him and that was why so many people were hovering in this area. A man dressed in an expensive looking black suit with threads of gold stitching, wearing a golden watch that looked anything but cheap, leaning casually on a Bentley Continental that was only slightly more conspicuous than Artemis' own vehicle. The man looked about in his late forties and had thick black hair like an Armani model. A heavy gaze, darkened brows and then those bright piercing blue eyes – many of the students could already guess who this less-than-discrete businessman might be.

"Father!" Artemis gasped in surprised. He hurried over before they could attract even more attention, but by now it felt like the whole world was looking. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd have dinner with my little Arty." His arms opened wide like he expected a hug; there was no chance in hell he was getting one here.  
"You can't park here, it's double yellow lines."  
"I'm not parked for long; I'm waiting for you."  
"Nevertheless, double yellows."

"You make it sound like you're not happy to see me," the older man laughed gruffly and cuffed his boy on the ear. "You think I can't afford a parking fine, son? Anyway, I have a contact in the council that would resolve that." Artemis sighed heavily. As happy as he was to see his father, he just wished they could get away from all those prying eyes.

"Artemis! Sorry, excuse me," a distant voice gained Artemis' attention and he began to turn to identify it. "Sorry, Artemis!" Katherina was elbowing her way through the forming crowd, waving at him. His brow flicked up. "The professor just gave me this. I think it's your work. He wanted me to hand it you."

"Ah," Artemis took the paper and became very aware of a pair of eager blue eyes watching him carefully. He decided to be as courteous as possible – couldn't have father thinking he wasn't fitting in at school. "This is the essay I handed in last week. Thank you, Katherina."

"Kat," she corrected. "Or Kath, if you prefer."

"Kat, then," he smiled again, just to make sure his father was getting the right impression.

"A friend of yours, Arty?" Right, time to get away. Before his father invited his whole university home for tea.

"I'm taking the same course, I'm Kat."

"Kat!" Artemis Senior offered his hand to her and when she gingerly extended her own, he took it with enthusiasm. "Nice to meet you. That's a funny accent you have there. Where are you from?"

"I've lived in a couple of places. I was mainly brought up in England." She was certainly nervous, but still polite even as his father placed two open palms on her shoulders.

"Are you hungry, Kat?" _Oh no,_ Artemis groaned internally.  
"Sorry?"  
"I'm just about to take my little Arty out for something to eat. Do you want to join us?"  
"Father, I really don't think-"  
"Mind your manners, Artemis."  
"I just wanted to return his essay. I don't want to disturb you-"  
"Don't be silly!" Artemis Senior laughed in a friendly manner, but Kat was looking more and more like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a very large 4x4. A tank, even.  
"Father," Artemis spoke louder now but still maintained his composure. "You're making her uncomfortable. Can't you see it's hard for her to refuse?" Kat glanced nervously between the two Artemis'. The elder one seemed to give in.

"Sorry, I just got a little excited. Next time, eh?"  
"Yes, uh, that'd be nice." Relief flooded visibly through her and Artemis couldn't help feeling sorry for her. He was also glad that it was Kat who had returned his papers. Anybody else, and there'd be a mob of university students pretending they were best friends with him just to have a look inside their flash, pricey Bentley and meet the infamous Mr Fowl. She almost bowed as she retreated, still smiling. Their eyes met a fraction of a second before she turned to walk away. Artemis' nose scrunched, his eyes regarding her coldly. She flinched, then hurried off.

"My car's not far away. You didn't need to pick me up." Regardless, he walked round the side of the car and opened the passenger door. His father swung into the driver's seat.  
"I dropped Butler off to pick up your car. The two of us are heading out! The Fowl men!" It was then that Artemis remembered Holly's message from the night before as he settled into the leather seat.  
"Ah, father, as pleased as I am, could we postpone this until tomorrow?"  
The frown that creased his father's face showed he was not overly happy with this suggestion. "Why? Are you busy tonight?"  
"I'm meeting with a friend," Artemis said, knowing he had to give his father enough information to grasp but not enough that it would make him start questioning. "She doesn't often get, uh, time off from work."  
"She?" Artemis Senior glanced in the direction that Kat had just disappeared. "I see." He folded his arms and thought carefully. "Well, I have a business meeting tomorrow evening but … let me see."  
"Well, I suppose we could get something to eat now," Artemis checked his watch. Ten to four. "As long as I'm back for the evening."  
"Where are you meeting your friend? I could pick them up." Artemis really did not like lying to his father. He'd only managed to clean his conscience by considering his adventures with the faery people as 'hiding information', not changing it. Right now, however, he was finding it difficult to explain his underground faery friend without slipping in a few bits of misinformation.

"No, it's fine, honestly." He hoped he could get his father off the scent as quickly as possible. "We're meeting near where she lives, so it's on the way for me." The elder man nodded to himself and started up the engine. The car purred into life and quietly pulled away onto the main road. The lack of sleep began to catch Artemis up in the peace of the warm Bentley, and he was soon sinking into the leather even further. He'd gone to sleep the same day he'd woken up, and university life _drained_ him. Faces rolled behind his eyelids, watchful eyes, fake smiles, all so tiring …

Eventually, his eyelids fluttered closed and his head dropped onto his chest. His father chuckled fondly and abruptly ended an incoming call before it managed to stir the young man next to him. They weren't far from their destination as Artemis Fowl Senior had decided to pick a lower class of diner than they were both used to in an attempt to create a less formal atmosphere between them. Admittedly, he wasn't dressed for a _casual_ meal, but that wouldn't matter to his son. The boy was used to it. He chose to go one less junction down the motorway than necessary to give Artemis a few more minutes of sleep, but he couldn't drive forever. Eventually they pulled up at the location and Artemis Senior had to gently tap his son awake. He felt regret as soon as Artemis' bleary eyes stared back at him in a daze. Artemis was more than tired – he was utterly exhausted, and it showed in his face. Now he was closer, his father could see the dark shadows circling his eyes. It was several seconds before the young man could even stir. He stretched to waken his body, but he felt so heavy.

"Son," Artemis Senior said, softly, "do you want us to give this a miss tonight?"  
"I'm just a little tired, father," Artemis began to pull himself from the car and went to adjust his tie – he wasn't wearing one. "and I've missed our dinners together. Although," he looked around and recognised they were at a family restaurant, "usually there are more chandeliers."

Satisfied his son was back to himself again, Artemis Senior climbed from the driver's seat and slammed the door. "I thought we'd act like a proper family."

"We've always been a proper family." Artemis smiled. "And the amount of time we've spent in a … _TGI Friday's_ will not change that."

"I've always wondered what the TGI stood for," his father mused. A family of six exiting their people carrier at the same time gawked as Artemis junior, dressed in dark coloured chinos, a pair of tan brogues and a smart, open collar shirt, ran his hand through his dark locks and beside him Artemis senior clicked the car key of the Bentley and returned it to the pocket of his suit trousers. What a pair they must look to normal folk. "Butler will know and if not, Juliet."

"I'm not sure it matters, father."

"Tell me about your day." He announced brightly, opening the glass door for his son. Artemis approached the staff member by the door and requested a table. The waiter, tanned and with the beginnings of dreadlocks, scurried away. For a second, Artemis was reminded of his troll experiences. He was taken back for a second to his escapade with Holly and Opal. Underwater, so close to drowning, clawing through the water for Holly's hand. "Son?"

"Ah, same old I suppose." Artemis replied and batted off the look of concern on his father's face.

"Might I ask about Kat?"

"Who?" Artemis genuinely asked. He'd slept since then, if only for a couple of minutes. "Ah, Katherina. I met her today. She will be in my group for the assignment.

"She's very pretty."

"Indeed, she is," he kept his voice level and his composure set. There was absolutely no reason for his father to make a fuss out of this. "Do you want me to list every other female I've had contact with at University so that you can interrogate me about each of them?" He regretted the words immediately as his father frowned. His expression reminded him of the man he used to know, before the Arctic Incident. The face of judgement and disapproval.

"Arty."

"Apologies, father," he hastily corrected himself, "I've been a little testy of late, I know."

The waiter returned and lead them to a small corner booth. He noted that Butler would despise this location. A booth restricted his line of sight and the whole building was structured with glass. He allowed himself a small smile. This faded from his face as his father maintained an unusual, stern silence. Artemis slid across the red leather seat next to the window and deliberately buried himself in the menu.

"Son, we need to talk about your behaviour lately." Artemis felt his stomach sink and the twelve-year-old Artemis came flooding back to the surface of his consciousness. Using the word 'behaviour' was particularly cruel of his father. He placed the menu down and met his father's gaze steadily. _I am nineteen, now. Not a child. I can have a proper conversation with my father without feeling like I'm being scolded._ "You've been acting… unusual."

"How so?"

"I had perhaps passed it off as a young man's behaviour. A touch of rebellion and all those teenage hormones firing around."

"Thanks, father," Artemis commented dryly. "I didn't realise I was still a child skipping around the streets in my jogging pants and Adidas t-shirts."  
"Don't be crude, Artemis." The use of his full name brought back that chill down his spine. His palms felt sticky, so he pushed them under his thighs. "This morning you left the house at a ridiculous time."

"I like to see the deer in the park on a clear morning."

"Yesterday, well this morning, you stayed up until a ludicrous hour."

"I was completing my assignments."

"Last week, you disappeared for two days."

"Hardly _disappeared_ , father, I rang you." There was a hard block in his throat and he was struggling to keep his tone normal. Just out of the way, the waiter nervously hovered, wondering if he should approach or if now was a bad time.

"Every evening you spend in your room, entranced by your computer and your work. We rarely see you anymore, Arty."

"I'm a university student, I-"

"Artemis, stop talking." Immediately, Artemis swallowed his words and went right back to his spot opposite his father's mahogany desk in the dimly lit room littered with the silver of various stolen accomplishments. "I have no doubt that your mind could come up with a thousand plausible excuses for every scenario I throw at you. What I'm saying is that you've been acting strange, and I no longer believe it to be –"

"Excuse me, are you ready to order your drinks?"  
"Disappear." It was one word and that was enough for the waiter to scamper away, looking simultaneously disgruntled and afraid. The room Artemis was in dropped in temperature. The eyes of the portraits on the walls dug into the nape of his neck. Gold rings and watches and necklaces sparkled seductively from the small table in the corner of the room. "As I was saying. I no longer believe it to be normal." His father took a second to observe his son carefully and Artemis could see the cogs in his mind whirring. He daren't speak. "I don't know what's best for you, Arty. I was about to suggest you leave university and go across to America to set up our little business plan. However, son, I don't think that would be best for you. I don't want you to miss this period of your life. I want you to relax." He sighed, heavily.

Finally, Artemis believed it safe to speak. "I am not sure I know how to, father."

"That's what I fear. You can start by ordering whatever you like from the menu." He raised his hand and beckoned the waiter over without even glancing up.

They ordered and settled into another uncomfortable silence. Artemis pushed all the thoughts in his head into a little box in the corner of his mind by distracting himself. He counted all the things that would be causing Butler to have palpitations in their environment, one of his most commonly used distraction techniques and he'd been needing it a lot recently. His father had raised a valid point, what was wrong with him? He pushed it away, back into the box. Their Bentley was wasn't reverse-parked; number one on Butler's list.

"How about you change degrees?"

"I'm not having any problems with my degree. Well, not anything novel that would not equally apply to every other degree."

"Are you enjoying it?"

"It's … eh," he struggled to find the words to placate his father. "To be honest with you, it feels like I'm on a bicycle and I'm peddling backwards. I really want to move forward with our business plan, father, I want to get all our products into production so we can save the planet. But to do that, I'm studying a degree in very basic concepts of the subject, even though I'm eager to move forwards. I hoped the degree would give me new ideas for practical innovation to mitigate climate change."

"Then … do you think you should apply for a better university? Something like Cambridge? Or Harvard?"

"I feel like I'd be wasting precious time."

"Arty, don't forget you're not the only genius working on this problem. It's not your sole responsibility to save the earth." That struck a chord that didn't feel comfortable to accept. It wasn't his responsibility? It was everyone's responsibility. And moreover, his family's enterprises had long contributed to an economy expanded past sustainability. They had prioritised profit over all else for … well, since the beginning of the Fowl lineage. Artemis himself had a responsibility to right his wrongs … He'd kidnapped a member of a whole other species and exhorted them for money. Why could he not find a solution instead to save something, not destroy it.

"Maybe you should go live in halls?" Artemis paled and was unable to hide how horrified that made him. "People make friends for life in universities. It would be a good opportunity."

Thankfully, Artemis was spared from answering as the waiter arrived with their food. He set down the plates and said a quick, "enjoy your meals," scampering away before either of the two men could interject, particularly the scary adult man in an expensive-looking suit.

"Father, Butler would have a heart attack if I were to live in student accommodation." Artemis reasoned and to this, his father laughed heartily.  
"And so would your mother."

"Then…?"

"That's my ultimatum. I want you to take an active interest in your mental health and your happiness. Not your degree, or your work. Your happiness. Take up some martial arts with Butler again, hell even start yoga. Do something that makes you happy. If I believe you are not happy, then I will pay for you to stay in student accommodation for the remainder of your university life."

"Father, my _work_ makes me happy! I …" He couldn't find the words to argue. Essentially, Artemis was going to have to put his work aside, his world-saving project, and dally about with stupid hobbies. No, it was more likely that Artemis would have to take acting classes in order to lie better to his family. There wasn't a chance he was going to live in student accommodation. That was ludicrous. And abandon his plan? Never.

"I've made my decision, son." And everyone knew that when a Fowl had made up his mind, there was no changing it.


	4. Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave?

**Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave?**

Artemis felt his eyelids droop dangerously and shook his head to stay alert. He took his car off cruise control; if he had to manually operate the car, maybe he’d wake up a little more. The radio was switched over to a brighter music channel, and he rolled the aircon down a few degrees. It didn’t really help. His tiredness felt more like a mental drain from the events of the day than it did physical exhaustion. Gone were the days where he could battle trolls, evil pixies and even time without so much as a headache. Nowadays, just making it to the end of a lecture was exhausting. Meeting Holly was hardly on the top of his favourite things to do right now, as much as he loved her to pieces, he couldn’t keep up with her banter today. She was so adept at reading him, she’d start to worry pretty quickly. And he couldn’t keep on the mask.

He distracted himself with the miles of Irish countryside bobbing past his window. There were barely any other cars on the motorway, just the sights of endless rolling green in the horizon to look at. It was no wonder the faeries were in touch with the Irish people; this was the most magical place Artemis had ever observed. He never grew tired of it and the charm of Ireland only became more spectacular each time he discovered a new country. He’d find himself comparing the sights and smells around him to the beauty of home, and nothing did quite compare. He especially loved the Irish coastline, still wild and raging. A beauty caused by the aggression of its environment; a rock battered into a diamond. Towering high cliffs and beaches strewn with sharp rocks, crashing sea fronts and seaweed laid over every inch of space. He felt like the Irish coastline was the closest he could often get to a space not taunted by mankind.

Holly and Artemis had decided to meet at one of the Fowl properties near to Tara. His parents still were not aware of the presence of a whole underground species and the connection with their prodigious son. It would be much more peaceful for Holly to enjoy her short over-ground VISA where the only human for several miles was her previous kidnapper and now best-friend (talk about Stockholm syndrome). Finally, the exit arrived, and Artemis took the turn off, the stark contrast of country roads to the motorway taking over the remainder of the route. He wound down the one-way tracks lined with high trees and bushes that concealed the Fowl estate from the outside world. This was one of their smaller properties, but it still had a couple of football pitches’ worth of land encircling it (and the remains of an old abbey at the bottom of the garden). This house had previously been rented out, but the last tenant had moved a couple of years ago and Angeline Fowl liked the property for her philanthropy meetings. It was a quaint mansion, if there was such a thing. The rooms were mostly small, ornated with wooden carvings on the doorways, beautiful China plates and cups filled the cupboards and every bed had four posts and a billowing curtain. It was as Fowl Manor used to be, before technology and Artemis’ creations had begun to swap the fireplaces for central heating, replace the wooden doors with reinforced steel (decorated to look like wood) and before even some of the servants corridors had been opened up into storage rooms.

The gates recognised his number plate and Artemis accepted the incoming phone-call that worked as a triple security barrier. “Good evening, Abbey House,” he said and the lights on the gate flashed green as the AI recognised his voice and the heavy iron gates slid back. He had barely applied the handbrake on arrival when he spotted the slight shimmer by the passenger door. He cast a smile Holly’s way.

“Evening Holly,” he spoke gently, placing his thumb on the door panel. The fingerprint scanner was a rouse and the actual recognition programme was the eye level iris scanner, but that required pressure on the pad to initiate. There was an unnecessary amount of security on this estate; more of twelve-year-old Artemis’ projects – the site hadn’t gone completely untouched. Artemis spared a second to think, _twelve-year-old Artemis appears to follow me everywhere these days._ “Come on in.”

Once he had closed the door, Holly fizzled into the visible spectrum.

“You look more vampiric than normal,” she commented immediately; she hadn’t even said ‘hi’ yet. Artemis caught sight of his reflection in the hallway mirror, his skin almost grey under his eyes, cheeks a porcelain white, brow heavy. He quickly looked away. Less than a couple of seconds had passed, and he had already been revealed.

“Another late night on the self-propelled hover craft.” Artemis dismissed. “Are you hungry?”

“No, I already ate. Wasn’t chancing some of your carcasses and animal fats tonight.”

“I’ve mostly turned to a vegan diet nowadays. I am not fully convinced on the environmental benefits of locally produced meat farming compared to these vegan products which come from all over the world … but at least I agree with you that it is much easier to appreciate something that tastes good and has not come from the death of an animal.”

“Good for you. Maybe one day you’ll get rid of all the billions of products in your human markets that still test on animals.”

“Maybe. One step at a time, unfortunately.”

“So tell me,” Holly said as she dropped down onto the rocking chair in the corner of the living room. It was cushioned like a sofa, and the faux-leather material enveloped her like a cocoon. Artemis had recently disposed of all leather furniture and clothing in all Fowl estates. He kept hold of some items he knew Holly would wrinkle her nose at, including the framed lion pelt in the attic which had an attached plaque, detailing the tale of Sir Hogan Hugh Artemis Fowl and his narrow escape from said lion in the Kenyan wilderness. He couldn’t bring himself to part with it, and anyhow, the lion was already dead. Not much could be done to bring it back. “Why is it you were up all night on a hover craft, of which you already know the exact materials and dimensions to build since you have access to most of Foaly’s private document drives?”

“Most of?” Artemis scoffed lightly but decided not to comment further.

“Whatever, you know what I mean.”

“Would you like some herbal tea? I’m sure you’re tired from the journey.”

“You have that?” Holly’s ears pricked up brightly. “Better not, I don’t know what human water will do to me with all your processing.”

“I’ll make you one,” Artemis got up and dusted down his trousers. “We have fresh Irish spring water here. I’m positive you’ll like it. It might even do you some good, the water runs by Tara.” He disappeared into the corridor to work his way through the maze that was Abbey House.

“Thanks, Arty!” She beamed, already feeling the buzz of content in her belly, partly from the magical epicentre of Tara being nearby, but mostly just through the feeling of being above ground. Then, she cursed. “He distracted me. That mudboy is manipulative even when he doesn’t mean to be.”

As soon as Artemis reached the kitchen, he took a second to rest his head against the closed door. If he was being honest with himself, he felt a bit ill. His stomach ached. His mouth felt dry. He breathed deeply, trying to use some mindfulness techniques to forget the gentle ache in his body. More than anything, he just wanted to rest. He’d probably not return to Fowl manor tonight and instead take to bed in one of the many bedrooms in Abbey House. They’d be slightly chilly since he’d not had the fire on but at least the sheets were thick.

He returned with a crystal-clear teapot and two beige, Chinese-style cups. Inside the teapot, a bud broke free from the lashing holding it closed, blooming into a stunning yellow flower. Holly took a moment to appreciate the smell of the herbal tea, and Artemis took a moment to appreciate his friend’s look of pure content.

“Go on then, mudboy, tell me about this hovercraft.”

“Ah, well, really, it’s only the usual stuff. Just a little hobby, that’s all.” Artemis waved his hand and took a sip of tea. Holly could spot a lie like this a mile off. Honestly, all the years they’d spent together, and he didn’t yet realise that she could see through everything now. Any project that Artemis truly cared about, enough to keep him up at night, was a project he wouldn’t dismiss a chance to talk about. If there was one thing Artemis Fowl liked to do, Holly knew, it was talk about his own genius. That included all his inventions and projects. She decided to go along with the lie.

“Oh really? What does it do? Is it self-sufficient? Does it run off solar panels?”

“Solar panels are too heavy at the moment.”

“Is it turbine powered, then?”

“Again, the generator alone would weigh it down.”

“Then come on, Arty. What’s so special about this hovercraft?” She allowed a smirk to tug her lips as she pressed harder on the topic, which slipped when she caught Artemis frown – which in itself was not so unusual, except it appeared he wasn’t _irritated_ but _pained_.

“What’s wrong?” She said, immediately. Artemis sighed.

“If I’m honest with you, Holly, I don’t feel very well tonight. I didn’t want to waste your time on the surface, but I really do not feel good.” He wasn’t lying, she thought, but he also wasn’t telling the whole truth.

“Have you had any … Atlantis symptoms come back?” Artemis’ expression faltered and his scowl returned. Holly had only asked because it didn’t look like Artemis was ill; it looked like he was mentally exhausted.

“Really, Holly. Do we have to bring that up?” He snapped, which was most unlike him these days.

“S-sorry,” She stuttered, a little shocked. “You just do not look well at all.” Now that he wasn’t smiling, his face looked worse – his body was tense, shoulders tight, fingers bent sharply at the knuckles. He drummed his fingers for a second, then stopped. A moment later, with one deep breath, the lines on his face eased.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m under a little stress at the minute.”

“You’re speaking so formally, Arty.” She got up and walked over to his chair, taking perch on the arm and folding her legs underneath her. “You can talk to me, you know. We’re friends.”

“I know, I know. I- …” He sighed again; at least he seemed more relaxed now. “I really don’t know what to do with myself, lately. I tell myself it’s nothing – we’ve battled trolls for heaven’s sake. Why can’t I deal with a stupid, human institution that pretty much every normal person goes through as well.”

“You can’t be struggling with the work?”

“No, not with the work. Although it’s tedious beyond belief. Yesterday, the lecturer used my essay as the structure for his entire lesson. We spent all of an hour looking at the same sources, some of which I wrote by the way, and dissecting my arguments. What am I supposed to learn from that? And because of it, the entire time people were glaring daggers into my back.”

“Nothing, I guess. But university isn’t all about the learning. It’s about the culture, too. Have you joined any clubs?”

“Absolutely not.” He scoffed, pushing his fingers into his hair and grasping slightly. “What should I join? The netball club? The politics society? Spare me the pain, Holly.”

“Why the pain?”

“Everyone there knows who I am. They know I’m Artemis Fowl. They either think of me as a criminal, as a snob, as a wallet to be picked or a nerd that will do their homework if they have big enough biceps to threaten me.”

“Arty, are you sure you’re not paranoid?” Holly coaxed, gently. Another veiled reference to his mental health and he clicked his tongue to show that it was not appreciated.

“I’m sure you’re the same. Could you just go out to the local shopping centre and expect people not to stare and comment?” Absolutely not. The crazy-girly Captain. She was known for one thing or another: the fairy that was kidnapped by a human, the fairy that had took on a troll, the fairy that had killed Commander Root … Take your pick. Holly tried to understand why this bothered Artemis, though, when it never did more than irritate herself. He wasn’t the type to care what others thought of him, especially not ‘normal folk’. Was he?

Then she put herself in Artemis’ shoes. She put herself back into the seat of her Police Academy classroom, not in the past, but now. If she went back now, would she be able to enjoy it half as much? If everywhere she went, someone was trying to get something from her or was whispering … She definitely wouldn’t enjoy it. And with Artemis’ post Atlantis recovery not too long ago, that would certainly add to his stress levels. And then maybe add in the fact that Artemis’ parents were rarely home, always out on their mad excursions across the world. And the fact that he was constantly lying to them. And the shadow of Butler, his old friend who, these days, only appeared _older_. Their escapades had most certainly caught up with him. He often found it difficult to breathe and had resorted to losing some bulk to make the job of shifting his huge mass a little easier on his lungs. Then, there was the fact that his only other friends were underground. Artemis had many stressors in his life and did very little to relieve them. In fact, he was such a keen and motivated person, Holly had realised of late, that he was rarely idle. He had plenty of projects on the go, always had a book half-completed on his bedside table. When did he rest?

She thought hard, and yet the only thought pulsing at the forefront of her mind was, this is _Artemis Fowl_. He doesn’t get stressed. Normal people are stressed. How could Artemis Fowl, the prodigious genius who’d saved the world more times than he’d kept count, get stressed over minor details like some ‘University bitching’.

During her thinking time, Artemis had closed his eyes, the frown on his face slowly edging away. She imagined he was using some sort of mental technique to push his stress aside and regain his composure. As he probably always did.

“Arty,” she spoke softly, as though speaking with a small child. “I think you need to slow down. Stop the projects, stop the hover crafts … stop writing all these essays and focus on yourself for a while.”

“You sound like my father,” he said, and that didn’t appear to be a good thing. “I’m sorry to have brought all this on you, it’s supposed to be your day off.”

“You’re never a burden, Arty. I don’t know if you think that way, but you have every right to get down sometimes. And every right to feel stressed.”

She patted his head gently and watched Artemis Fowl Junior drift off into a deep sleep. She may have laced her fingertips with magic; he didn’t need to know that. She hoped he wouldn’t remember when he woke up, but she wasn’t naïve enough to think Artemis wouldn’t put 5 and 7 together to get 321.

Once he was out for the count, Holly tiptoed into another room and made a phone call to Butler. As Artemis’ two protectors, there was a long chat to be had.

When he awoke later, back in slight pain from sleeping in the armchair, listening to the house whispering softly in the night, he realised he was alone, and that Holly must have left some time ago. Always the polite guest, she’d tidied away the teapot and laid a blanket over her snoozing friend. Guilt sat low in his gut. She’d come all this way and wasted a VISA, only to baby-sit her mudman friend that lately had been riddled with mental health issues. When they had only just celebrated him getting over the Atlantis Complex, now he was suffering from something far less ‘grandiose’. Suffering as a teenage criminal mastermind from another species’ magical condition was something to tell your doctor about. Boredom, stress, anxiety – whatever the hell was going on with him – it wasn’t anything to write home for. He was just a regular young adult with regular adult problems; it wasn’t a word he’d ever used on himself.

He was starting to think that maybe he had a touch of narcissism. Most geniuses tended to have a hint of it; when he’d met his younger self, it was the first thing that sprang to mind. Why else would he be so wrapped up in his own problems? It had to stem from some sort of self-obsession, an unhealthy one at that. Because of this thought, he’d begun to avoid looking in the mirror, and the daffodils outside the front of Fowl Manor haunted him every time he drove past. Then again, perhaps he was over-thinking. Butler had always said that over-thinking was both his boon and his bane. Well, he certainly hadn’t used those exact words, but Artemis had translated it as such.

_“Having a brain like yours is like having a Glock in your back pocket. It becomes so easy to take it out all the time, you become over-confident with it and can focus on nothing else. Years later, you’ve got significant hearing loss and you’ve pulled the trigger one too many times. You forget any of the other weapons you have in your arsenal.”_

_“Thanks for the extended metaphor, Butler.”_

The sentiment still stood. Artemis could pick holes in Butler’s metaphor all day. He could find so many faults that eventually he realised the crass attempt at explaining his over-thinking had indeed pointed out the fact that he did overthink, when overthinking was completely unnecessary. Like Butler had tried to explain, Artemis hadn’t needed to put so much effort into dissecting it. He could have left the Glock alone.

Artemis shook his head wearily. He was still thinking about that stupid Glock reference. Every time he thought about it, he was only adding to its truth.

“I will stop overthinking,” he decided. He blinked. “And then, what?”

His phone rang gently in his pocket and Artemis was pleasantly surprised to see that it was only 11pm. He could get some work done on his laptop tonight and still be able to rest, setting off for University in the morning.

“Butler,” he greeted, standing to straighten out his crumpled suit.

“Artemis, are you planning on coming home tonight?”

“Sorry, old friend,” he squinted his eyes in the dark room, searching for his car keys. He spotted them on the side table. “Not tonight.”

“How’s Holly?”

“She’s, uh, well,” He stuttered, completely unlike himself, heading for the door to grab his laptop from the boot of the car. “It’s a shame you didn’t come with me to see her. She misses you too, you know.”

Butler chuckled fondly, the sound like rumbling thunder. “Aye she might, but it’s nice for you to get some alone time with female company.”

Artemis almost headbutted the boot of the Jaguar as he lent forward. He spluttered down the phone. “I hope you’re not insinuating that I have any feelings for Captain Short?!”

“No, Artemis,” He could tell his old friend was smiling. “I’m just saying you don’t socialise often enough. And those videos you and Foaly send each other of your computer systems do not count.”

“I’m getting fed up of being patronised, Butler.” Artemis sighed and the moment’s silence on the other end confirmed the slight culpability his friend was now mulling over. “Just understand that I’m getting this from all sides now! It used to only be mother rebuking me for not obliging to social norms. Now I get it from father and yourself, too! And I’ll bet if the twins weren’t at boarding school, Myles would be calling me a simpleton as well!”

“Okay, okay, Artemis,” Butler said. He was tiring of this never-ending argument, as well. “I have been speaking to your father-,” Artemis rolled his eyes knowing that whatever was coming was not going to be good. “And he wants you to actively look for things that make you happy.”

“I feel like a twelve-year-old child, with a father trying to get me into football and a mother showing me dolls in a benign attempt to make me into a good person. Except,” he added, “when I was twelve, none of this was happening. Father was _proud_ of me.” He almost scoffed.

“Your father _is_ proud of you, Artemis. And so am I, if you don’t mind me saying.” The thought did touch him. All the same, they were having this argument once more. And he was completely, utterly exhausted of it. He felt his headache returning.

“I’m tired of all this, Butler.” He sighed and hung up.

He knew that hanging up on Butler would come back to bite him later. It was a childish thing to do, he knew, and yet he just didn’t have the energy to keep debating this back and forth.

_“Do what makes you happy.”_

_I’m trying._ He gritted his teeth and paused for a second at the front door, laptop in hand. _I just can’t._


	5. Men in rage strike those that wish them best

Artemis was sat in a psychology lecture that he didn’t really need to be in; it didn’t affect his degree. It wasn’t even vaguely close to what he was studying. The amount of times his brain had been plucked apart by various quacks with differing qualifications from countless universities, you’d think he would know the psychology textbooks inside out. For the most part, he did.

Today was a rather interesting study on memory. Interesting to Artemis at least because it was nothing to do with any of the diseases or conditions he’d ever been accused of. No-one had ever handed him a piece of paper with the words, Overactive Memory Symptoms and How to Control It. He would, without intending to brag, say that he had a rather good memory. It was a concoction of drive, curiosity and an incredible memory that made him who he was. His father also had a good memory, but he favoured using it towards a business mindset. He preferred boardrooms to laboratories, unlike his prodigious son. Having never been on the receiving end of a lecture about his memory and feeling defensive, it was a kind break to study psychology without someone leaving a foul taste in his mouth.

The lecturer discussed a well-known study into an individual who had lost all but one element of his memory; much like Dory from the children’s film, if he had to retain information past seven seconds, it disappeared. And yet, he could play piano concertos without so much as a pause for thought or a slip of a key. Incredible. Of course, Artemis had heard of this study before – he’d actually spoken to the man himself once. The points the lecturer was bringing up were hardly revolutionary. But still, it was nice to relax and let the words wash over him. He could allow himself to get deep in thought, using he lecturer’s points to bounce off, having drawn-out arguments in his head that flipped back and forth before fading back into reality.

The lecturer was a squat lady who had worked at the university for at least thirty years. The lines of her face were soft and kind. She had a steady voice that was easy to follow, and hypnotic as she sounded, Artemis was still able to pay attention. More than that, she was a good person, Artemis believed. It was in the smile on her face and calm environment her mannerisms created. People were so drawn in by her that no-one spared a single glance at Artemis for the duration of the lecture. After her session drew to a close, she waved goodbye to the students and hobbled back to her laptop.

“Mrs Fagan,” Artemis said, softly. He’d once called her name after a class and the poor lady had nearly fallen in surprise. He was more careful with his tone this time. “Could I have a few of those handouts, if you don’t mind?”

“Absolutely!” She beamed, the mole on her cheek disappearing in her smile. “Though I can’t imagine you’ll have much use for them, Mr Fowl.”

“They’re for my younger brother.” He explained. “There was a time when Myles loved my handouts. He doesn’t even look at them anymore. I thought, perhaps, he’d take a look at someone else’s.”

“How old is your brother?” Mrs Fagan asked, and she already could tell she didn’t want to hear the answer.

“Five, but his brain is far beyond what you might expect of a regular five-year-old.”

“You don’t say,” she shook her head in disbelief. “Genius runs in the family, does it?”

Artemis tried not to look proud. “He’d appreciate your theories on the sensory memory store, if not just to tear them apart.” He realised this may come across as rude and quickly added, “though don’t worry, he does that to everything I say, too. I cannot reason with the child. He doesn’t believe that AI will ever become sentient enough to rule the world; I’ve warned him enough times.”

Mrs Fagan remained quiet. Young Fowl was often a lot to take in, having two of them would be a nightmare. Her head hurt thinking about it. She flicked through her folder and removed a few sheets of paper from it, handing them over. “Let me know what he says. I’d be curious to find out.”

“I won’t pass that sentiment on,” Artemis sighed, like the world was sat on his shoulders. “He’s been dying to find someone to write to, recently. He keeps attempting to contact Elon Musk and discuss with him his theory on magnetic transport. No one has responded to his letters yet. I feel that is for the best. The world is not ready for Myles Fowl.”

“I can tell that you love your brother a lot,” her usual smile warmed her face, and unusually, Artemis found himself smiling back.

“And Beckett, his twin.”

“Oh, good lord, there’s three of you?”

…

Artemis had perhaps twenty minutes before he needed to wander over to his next lecture – a lecture that actually formed part of his curriculum and one he absolutely did not want to attend. Unlike the gentle Mrs Fagan, Ms Walker was thoroughly awful to be around. She wanted to be popular with everyone, and though Artemis did not consider that to be a bad trait, the way she behaved to achieve that was … obnoxious. The way she giggled at the comments students would make, even if they were at the expense of others, the tone of voice she would use, the dreadful and undignified snort of her laugh – even Opal Koboi provided better company, assuming she wasn’t trying to kill him and everyone he loved. As a lecturer with several degrees, her behaviour was childish and completely unprofessional.

Artemis grasped the handouts in both hands, finding himself content again. He quickly checked the time; 10:30. There was a chance that Myles was on his morning break.

The dialling tone rang for less than a couple of seconds when Myles answered.

“Good morning, Artemis,” his younger brother chimed, happily. “What is it you want?”

“How are you doing, little brother?” Artemis smiled into the phone and quickly slipped into a quieter corridor.  
“I am well. Today we ‘sperimented with cola and eggs.”

“We’ve done that one before, have we not?”

“We have,” Artemis could practically hear the eye roll Myles gave him. “But this time, I got to set up my own control conditions.”

“Ahh, excellent. Are you going to work out the coefficient?”

“Of course,” Myles said, haughtily.

“And how is Beckett?”

“Digging,” was Myles’ only response. Artemis paused, not sure if he wanted to ask, ‘what for’. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class, too?”

“I am, but I still have ten minutes for my younger brothers.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have time to waste, I have three stopwatches I need to monitor.”

“Is Professor Primate helping you?”

“He is.”

“I’ve got some handouts from one of the psychology lectures for you.”

“How many letters do they have?” His brother’s voice was sceptical. He was asking about the post-nominal initials, something of which he had begun to use to judge others. Artemis was starting to think it would become a problem.

“… D. S. Sc.” There was a hum that followed this, and Artemis wasn’t quite sure what it meant. There was a good chance that neither did Myles. “It’s about the Sensory Memory System, Myles. It’s interesting.”

“I shall give it a read.” He stated, almost reluctantly.

“Can I speak to Beckett?”

“Okay. Beckett!” Myles voice became distant. There was a number of shouts that travelled faintly across the phone line, one of which Artemis distinctly recognised as the word, ‘simpletoon’.

“Hi, Artemis,” Beckett was so close to the speaker that Artemis winced. His heavy breaths suggested he had been running or perhaps engaging in something else of equivalent physical ferocity.

“Good morning, brother. How are you?”

“Busy,” he replied. “What want?”  
“Just a few seconds of your time, before you go back to … whatever you were doing.”

“’kay. Three seconds.”  
“Beckett, Myles, we’re going to play~” A new voice chimed in the background. “Let’s go!” Artemis felt his heart warm; his brothers had friends – they weren’t like him.

“Two,” Beckett pressed, sounding impatient but giving his silly older brother a chance to speak.

“I just wanted to say that I love you,” Artemis sighed, unable to hold back his smile now. “Have a good day, Beckett.”

“One! Love you! Bye!” Beckett shouted into the receiver, and there was a crackle that suggested he may have kissed the microphone … or licked. You never knew with Beckett.

“Don’t hang up, B-,” Myles’ voice was cut off abruptly. He truly adored those two and was ever grateful that neither of them seemed to be turning out like him. Myles came the closest, but all he ever schemed about was bringing the dinosaurs back to life or creating fart-powered vehicles. Not once had he mentioned gold, money, power, or any of the other things young Artemis had dreamed of. They didn’t have a father reciting the family motto each bedtime. They didn’t have a mother with significant mental health problems forgetting their names. They could be normal.

“Who were you just chatting to?” Artemis snapped his eyes up and quickly pocketed his phone. Across the corridor, Lizzy grinned at him. She looked intrigued. “ _I love you,”_ she repeated. “Girlfriend?”

“Brothers,” he retorted, reaching to straighten a tie he realised he wasn’t wearing. With a huff, he set off down the corridor towards the lecture theatre.

“Oh, I had no idea you had brothers!” She joined his step. He noticed that her vibrant hair now had a streak of silver in amongst the pink. “How many?”

“Two.”

“How old?”

“Five.”

“That’s adorable, I can’t believe no one has ever mentioned-,” her voice trailed out as she realised that she was insinuating that people spoke about him behind his back. He ignored the comment. “They must be at school now?”

“Yeah, boarding school.”

“You don’t get to see them that much, then?”

“I make frequent trips there,” he said, and then added, “and so does my bodyguard.” He treated her with his most conceited look. He believed that if he was as intimidating as possible, she would leave him alone. Her eyes blinked in surprise, but then a glint shone in them.

“Bodyguard!” She cried, gleefully. Artemis wanted to sigh. “You have a bodyguard? Why isn’t he here?”

Artemis was thankful that he saw Kat and Connor chatting outside the entrance to the lecture hall, and Lizzy became immediately distracted.

“Hey, you two!” Most of the corridor turned to look at the bright-haired girl jumping up and down on the spot, both arms in the air to wave.

Kat smiled, clearly conscious of the attention their group was now gathering. Connor waved back. Next, Kat’s eyes met Artemis’ and she held them for a second, as though wondering how to react. He answered this question for her, cutting between the group and heading to his seat without a word.

“Miserable bastard,” he caught Lizzy mutter under her breath. It didn’t trouble him.

The class began, late as always, and Artemis tried his best to ignore the scowls bouncing in his direction from Lizzy. She sat with Emma, who had later appeared and attempted to make conversation with Artemis, until Lizzy called her away. Connor had chosen to sit in front of them, along with a few of his other friends and Kat sandwiched between them. She too glanced over her shoulder, and Artemis couldn’t help but note the frown in her eyes when she caught his gaze, too. His stomach twanged – _that was well-deserved. She hasn’t really done anything to deserve the scorn I am giving her. I just don’t want any more fuss. No more irritations in my life. No more stress. I’ll just get through university, out to the other side where I am free again._

The lecture was a double period. The short break was of little relief to Artemis; he’d much rather just get it over with. Most people disappeared, probably to the vending machines and the local Costa. Very few people stayed behind, leaving the hall echoing every footstep and the quiet chatter of small groups. Lizzy had left immediately after a break was called, making sure to shoot daggers in his direction before leaving. Emma silently apologised behind her.

Kat took out her mobile and shuffled out shortly after, leaving her notes open on the table and her bag still shoved under her chair.

Artemis took a moment to check on his home security system, not that he anticipated any threats. If there were any, it would have notified him by now (else, Foaly would have). However, aforementioned centaur liked to leave little hexes behind, just as Artemis would plant a few bugs of his own. Nothing for the moment, he mused, watching the screens play through as normal. He must be busy – unusual. Artemis maintained watch for several minutes, looking for a loop or a trip. But there were none, and he was confident that the activity on the screens were live. He managed to catch the moment that Juliet Butler bounded into the manor, and upstairs Butler’s ears pricked like a hound. He stalked to the stairway and relaxed upon seeing his sister, who pummelled him a couple of times in the stomach. Classic Butler greeting.

He continued to watch for a few more minutes. He had emails to answer, but it was nice to watch normality playing across his screen. Eventually his projects called him; he had contacts to make, businesspeople to persuade and companies in China to buy out.

It wasn’t like Artemis to react to instincts, unlike Butler, but something caught his attention in the periphery of his vision. He glanced up, curiously. Someone was hovering near Kat’s bag. Artemis observed the scene, taking in the body language of an individual that very clearly knew they were doing something wrong. The way they looked around, adjusted the strap of their watch, ran their hands through their hair … what were they doing? Eventually, they committed to the act, and Artemis watched as the individual snapped a few photos of one of the sheets they had pulled from Kat’s notebook – it looked like an essay. They didn’t spare any extra time to check the photos, quickly replacing the pages in the folds of the book and disappearing.

“Interesting,” he commented aloud. There was no more he could do, however, so he returned to his work.

He watched carefully when Kat returned. She didn’t appear to notice anything had changed, rummaging in her bag for a highlighter and continuing with her work. He maintained his watch for a further minute as the rest of the class began to filter back in. She was working diligently. He could make out numbers on the page as she worked through some maths on a back page, then flicked back to the front to carry on making notes.

The lecture went ahead without incident.

He found he couldn’t ignore what had happened. He studied it, running the scene through his head, playing back each part – what about it was irritating him? And it _was_ ‘irritating’ him, so he began to self-analyse. _Why is this concerning me?_ It could be because this was reflective of how others treated him sometimes, like a cheat book. Perhaps it was because it was unfair: Kat clearly worked hard, and he was willing to bet the person who had stolen her work wouldn’t be up late tonight reading through textbooks or writing essays. Yet, Artemis knew, he wouldn’t usually be concerned over something so menial. Was it then, guilt? He had treated Kat pretty poorly, ignoring her kindness simply because the rest of their group were not people he wanted to be around.

Or was it, curiosity?

He wanted to know what would happen next. Was this a one-off? Or did Kat repeatedly have her work copied? He tapped his pencil on the desk to return his attention to the lecture. There was no use concerning himself so much with it. He’d see what transpired.

“Just a reminder,” the lecturer concluded, “that the essay is due Friday. If there’s no questions, you’re free to go.”

Artemis closed his laptop, satisfied that he had managed to clear his inbox whilst still keeping an ear out for poignant moments in the class. Nothing the lecturer said was of particular value, but she did like to drop extra work every now and again and more than once, Artemis hadn’t been listening and so he’d missed a deadline. Once, he had written the essay in front of the lecturer in thirty minutes, references and all, after she had questioned him on his lack of assignment. He met the deadline and was able to deliver to her one of his trademark smirks to top it off.

“I’d just like to say,” Artemis looked up to see Lizzy stood in front of him, her hands firmly on her hips, “that your attitude stinks. And I don’t appreciate the way you talk to me.”

“Oh,” Artemis replied, calmly. “I apologise.”

She rolled her eyes with exaggerated movement, huffing. “I hate people who are insincere. You’re disingenuous, Mr Fowl. I can’t stand people like you.”

“I dislike people who are unable to take a hint,” he retorted. “I don’t want to be friends with you – I don’t care for you. I am particularly unconcerned with whether or not you believe me to be a ‘nice guy’, or even ‘sincere’. Why? Because you only want to speak with me because I have more gold in my bank account than you will ever even witness pass by on the shopping channels.”

Lizzy’s cheeks puffed. She spluttered indignantly, clenching tiny fists at her waist. Her eyes roared with anger. Emma was soon by her side, resting one hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t give a shit who you are, or how much money you have,” she yelled, and Artemis noted – once again – that he was the centre of attention.

“Is that so?” He collected his things and stood, now towering over her with a cold expression in his eyes. “Then stop trying so hard to talk with me.”

“You fucker-,” Lizzy grunted, Emma grasping her arm tightly.

“Let’s go, Liz,” Emma hissed, pulling her away. “Everyone is looking.” Reluctantly, Lizzy let Emma drag her away. She maintained eye contact for as long as she could, steam practically venting from her body. Artemis decided it best to appear busy while the class dissipated. He slid his phone from his pocket and tapped away.

“Are you coming, Kat?” Connor’s voice called. Artemis looked up and caught Kat watching him. Her expression was hard to read. The slight guilt from his previous treatment towards her stopped him from looking away. He waited to see what face she would pull. She didn’t flinch. When Connor called again, she nodded slightly to Artemis, and then left.

 _What the hell does that mean?_ Artemis thought, somehow irritated by the gesture. _I need more women like Holly and Juliet in my life – women that punch you if they don’t like what you’ve said. How am I meant to understand that?_

* * *

**AN: thank you for your feedback so far! I'm enjoying writing this so I'm glad you're enjoying reading it!**


	6. Hell is Empty and All the Devils Are Here

Artemis was perplexed as he was in a situation where he was forced to do something he didn’t like, and quite unusually, he was unable to get himself out of it. The laptop in front of him showed a black screen, the icon of a meeting prompt flashing in the centre. It continued to count down the minutes until his Skype conference with his ‘team’. They needed to organise who would be presenting each section of the group task and ensure all elements were deconflicted – the lecture they would usually meet in to discuss such things had been cancelled, and Artemis would be absent next week for a business meeting in England. His grade relied on this task being completed to as high a standard as his single projects; hence, Skype.

With a degree of reluctance, he joined the meeting. Unsurprisingly, some of the team had already signed in.

Kat’s face flashed in one corner. She was wearing a white hoody and had her hair tied in a messy bun. Next to her icon was Connor in some sort of running attire, behind him the expanse of a garden as the sun shone from above. There was also Emma, her long brown hair down as always and what appeared to be an electronic keyboard on a stand behind her. They were, of course, waiting on Lizzy. Artemis had expected no less. He considered himself a reasonably good judge of character and even though he knew Lizzy very little, she seemed to be very transparent – everything about her was immediately legible from a glance.

“Good morning, Artemis,” Connor said as Artemis’ figure flashed up on the screen.

“Good morning,” he replied, a little grudgingly.

“What’s with the suit, Artemis?” Emma smiled and Artemis could tell her heart was not behind the smile. It was a surface-level attempt to be pleasant after the recent incident with Lizzy.

“I’ve got a meeting after this,” he remained deliberately vague.

“On a Saturday? Amazing,” she cooed, and he tried not to roll his eyes - this was all so superficial. He couldn’t wait to end this call and get away from the small talk.

“Good morning, Katherina,” Artemis switched the conversation to the woman scribbling away in the top corner of his screen. She glanced up and mumbled ‘morning’ back. Artemis was saved from any more pointless chatter with the appearance of Lizzy. She had yet more silver streaks in her bright pink hair and now the addition of a nose ring. Her smile was cheery and bright.

“Hey guys!”

“Hey, Liz, how’s it going?”

“Not bad~, I nearly totally forgot about all this. It’s a good job you text me.”

“I figured you’d forget,” Emma laughed, lightly. Artemis was not laughing. She’d already wasted two minutes of his time more than he wanted to spend on her.

“Hey, Connor! Hey, Kat! You look cute today.” Her smile was still broad and friendly. Kat flushed and hid under her fringe. “Morning, Arty!” Artemis winced and he was 100% sure she’d done that on purpose. “Do you sleep in those?”

“In my suit? No, don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s 9am, what are you doing dressed like that?”

“I have a meeting.”

“No need to dress up for us, silly,” she giggled. Artemis clicked his tongue in irritation. “Let’s get this show on the road then!”

He was thankful for the change in topic. Now, _this_ he could do – he could talk science and facts all day. He’d only recently developed Artemis-Banter-Mode and it had just two settings, Holly and Foaly. The Butler banter was in progress. His younger brothers were speeding along the path of socialisation skills at a much faster rate. Even Myles made jokes occasionally, though usually at his elder brother’s expense.

He tried to keep in the background of the conversations. A part of him knew that if he began nit-picking, there’d be no end to this chat. Even though the child in him was raising a hand in the theatre of his mind, expression smug, dying to say something clever, Artemis made very few remarks and kept what he did say clean and cold.

“Your points lack analysis,” he said to Connor. “You’re making good points, but not explaining them.”

“What do you mean?” Connor asked, and Artemis examined his face carefully for clues – had he upset him? He’d only spoken the truth. If anything, his advice could help improve his grade. Was it the way he’d said it? There was no way he could help that. He had always been like this.

“If I asked you to explain how the earth is warm enough to sustain life, your current answer is - because the sun exists. You then go on to describe the sun, telling me that it is bright yellow in the sky and is called a star. However, you have yet to tell me why the earth is warm. What you need to go on to explain is what properties the sun has that can make the earth warm.”

“That … sort of makes sense,” Connor muttered, making a note on the scrap of paper in his lap. “Kind of.”

“You need to go back to the question and analyse it better,” Kat piped up. She hadn’t said much yet either. In fact, the majority of the conversation so far had been carried by Emma and Lizzy, with Connor making slight interjections as they got carried away. “I can send you over a document that shows you how to properly break down a question. Once you’ve done that, you will have a list of things you need to answer. Like Artemis mentioned, you’re describing things related to the topic but not exactly answering the key part.”

“Ahh, I see,” he nodded, though his furrowed brow said different. “Thanks Kat.”

“If we’re criticising each other, Artemis you’ve used too many case examples outside of what we’ve learned in class.” Lizzy said, jabbing her pencil at the camera.

“… And?”

“This is a group presentation. We need to discuss things we’ve learned in class, otherwise there’s no point.”

“What’s the point of a lecture if not to learn?” Artemis countered, his left eye twitching in irritation.

“It’s a consolidation lesson. We’re not supposed to be throwing in new content.”

“The examples I utilised are quite sufficient to explain the points we’re making, and we have enough time in each section to briefly explain the case.”

“The examples the teacher used are quite sufficient to explain the thing-ys we’re … discussing,” Lizzy mocked his haughty accent as best she could, trailing off at the end. “There’s no need to show off.”

“There’s actually several flaws to-,”

“Stop it,” sighed Kat, slamming down her notebook so that the noise buzzed through the speaker, “I don’t have time for this.” She muttered under her breath. Artemis jolted slightly, noticing at last the dark patches under her eyes. She looked tired. _Must have had a bad day_ , he thought. “Artemis, take out the two top-down cases. The examples we were given will be sufficient for the point you’re trying to make. I understand what you’re saying about the drawbacks of China’s involvement, but from what I can tell, you took that section out anyway. Keep the bottom-up and community points. They’re good.”

He tried to argue, but his mouth couldn’t form the words. Lizzy seemed equally astounded. This woman was certainly more interesting than he had thought. Whilst Lizzy was quite transparent in her personality, it seemed Kat had some depth yet to explore. At least, he hadn’t put her down as the snappy type.

“Nice, Kat,” Connor beamed. “Let’s move on.”

It wasn’t long before Lizzy’s engines were revved up again to her usual buzz, and she was chattering like nothing had happened. Artemis resigned himself not to speak again if at all possible, and it seemed Kat had calmed herself. She was back to burying herself in her notepad. The jaded expression still scorned her face.

“Aaaaaand that’s a wrap, guys!~” Lizzy grinned, whipping her arms out wide and taking an exaggerated bow from her seat. “I feel like we’ve covered everything. Nice.”

“I’ll see some of you around campus,” Connor nodded. “Artemis, enjoy your trip.”

“Hmm,” he replied, attempting a smile but only managing a grimace.

“Kat~” the pink-haired bubble of energy hopped in the screen. “Make sure you get a good night’s sleep tonight! You look tired. Too much studying! Less work, more plaaaay!”

“I’ll try,” Kat lifted one side of her face and waved. “See ya.”

“Laterz!”

“Bye everyone!”

One by one, the faces flickered to black and Artemis was left alone again, the silence pleasing to his ears and the ringing his head had been doing slowly fading away. He caught himself tapping his finger rhythmically on the desk and stopped himself.

“Just a habit,” he shook his head, closing the lid of his laptop. Now, to business.

…

“You got your notes?” Butler asked as Artemis pulled himself from the car and brushed down his suit.

“Notes? What notes?” He allowed himself a small chuckle, tapping his head meaningfully.

“Of course,” Butler rolled his eyes.

“All up here.” Artemis shrugged. “Now, let’s go win ourselves a manufacturing plant and a contract for 1500 workers.”

“That and a few more enemies for the list. That’s how these things usually go. You always manage to piss off as many people as you please.”

“That hurts, old friend.” They began crunching the gravel on the way to the front entrance, leaving the Bentley directly outside the front door. There were five pillars framing the glass doorway – Artemis smiled. The doors slid by to open the way to the reception area, a vast space in a circular shape. Directly opposite was the desk, curved mahogany with a tablet inbuilt to the surface. The overhead lights were simple halogen strip lights with a pattern of spirals casting intricate shadows onto the wooden flooring. The receptionist raised his head as they arrived. He smiled, broadly, teeth a bright white against his Middle-Eastern complexion and dark turban. He wore a white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves.

“Good morning, sirs, how can I help you?”

“Good morning,” Artemis responded curtly, tweaking his tie one last time. “I’m here for the meeting in room 48.” He tapped his wrist subconsciously.

“Right this way,” the man stood and revealed a card from his breast pocket, slotting it into one of the doors until the light glowed green. He removed it and allowed the two visitors to pass him.

“Key cards?” Artemis sniffed. “How quaint. I didn’t realise it was 2010.”

“If you follow the corridor to the end and turn right, you’ll find room number 48. At the end of that corridor is the refreshments room, the toilets, changing rooms et cetera. This is your key for room 49 – your own private space. Please drop this in the box on your way out today.”

“Thank you very much,” Artemis took the offered card and immediately handed it over to Butler.

“If you need anything, please do ask.”

They arrived at their room and Artemis poured himself a glass of water to sip. He still had time before the meeting began. Despite the Grecian-style entrance with white columns, the remainder of the hotel had a modern, deep blue and black theme. Everything was top of the range (or at least by normal standards). Butler pulled a book from his bag, the item shrinking as it was engulfed by his mammoth hands. He knew Artemis would now spend the next half-hour meditating, going over his presentation in his mind, rehearsing each section and timing it. He’d plan each laugh, each _ooh_ and _ahh_ , every single reaction he wanted his audience to make. In the beginning, Butler recalled the awkward silences young Artemis was forced to endure in an otherwise perfect pitch – he was impeccable in every aspect except humour. Even though young Artemis knew where the punchlines should go, his comedic sense was missing. The boy would pout slightly at the empty response. Every time.

Butler allowed himself a rare sigh. His charge had grown now. The boy sat cross-legged on the armchair, eyes closed, was no longer the boy he’d been. The two of them were completely different people. He had no doubt that today, Artemis would deliver an incredible performance.

Artemis was woken from his trance by the buzz of his mobile.

“At least that has reminded me to turn it off,” he muttered, blinking out of his reverie. He flicked open the screen, only to frown. Frowning Artemis made Butler nervous.

“… What?” Butler asked, hands twitching for his pistol.

“Oh, nothing to worry yourself about. I got a text.”

Artemis read the text, confusion knitting his brow. It was from Kat.

_I know you’re busy today, but do you think we can clear the air? I’m sorry for snapping._

He cautiously tapped a response.

_What do you mean, clear the air? I’m not busy at the minute._

His phone buzzed again as a call came in and he fumbled not to drop it in surprise.

“Hello?”

“Are you busy? I know you said you’re not, but …”

“I’ve got time. What is it?” Across the room, Butler was staring at him, curiosity on his features.

“It was just, with the argument you and Lizzy had, the whole Twitter thing and then me snapping at you earlier … I don’t know, I just feel like we need to clear the air.”

“You didn’t snap, you made a valid point and because of it, we got the work done. And with the,” Artemis words stumped in his mouth. “… Twitter?”

“… The photo?”

“What … photo?”

“Oh, God,” she moaned, “you didn’t even know. Where do I begin?”

Artemis was already on his phone as the call continued, searching through the algorithms for his name. About two hundred hits were made. “Someone snapped a photo of us the other day stood by your car with your dad and there’s an article out about … you know, if we’re dating. It’s only a really small online news site, hardly any credible reporting on the whole thing but … you know.” A crackle down the line suggested she was groaning, softly.

“I see,” he said. He flicked through the article. Nothing of interest, really. Just speculative reporting. Hardly any reach. It did explain the increased attention he’d had over the last couple of days, though. The number of hits on the article had been so minute, his home systems hadn’t picked it up. There had been worse articles about him before now. “Please don’t worry yourself with this.” He closed the article and put his phone by his ear again. A thought struck him. “Has anyone said anything to you?”

“Ah, yeah, kind of.” She replied, her tone subdued.

“Has it given you any trouble? If so, I can have this website removed immediately.”

“The whole website, not just the article?”

“If it is bothering you, Katherina.” He replied, seriously. Kat laughed, the sound just a breath of air.

“No, the article doesn’t bother me. I’ve just had a number of strangers sending me friend requests, and lots of missed calls … If anything, the whole thing has reminded me to check my privacy settings.”

“I’m sorry you’ve been troubled by this.”

“No, it’s nothing, honestly. Although,” she laughed again, “I _was_ troubled by the fact you didn’t mention it. Trust me to get all worked up about something on my own.”

“There are hundreds of articles about me every day. My algorithms must not have noticed something so insignificant. And I uh,” he looked down at his lap, twisting his mouth into a grimace. He’d rather Butler weren’t here to hear this, but it needed to be said. “I apologise as well. I’ve been … _snappy_ , too.”

“Shall we start afresh?” Kat offered and Artemis found himself relieved.

“I’d like to.”

“Me, too. Anyway, I’m glad we cleared that up. I’ll see you when you’re back. Good luck with the meeting today.”

“Thank you. I will see you when I return.”

“Bye!”

He ended the call and wondered how long he could go without explaining all that to Butler. The intrigued look on his manservant’s face said – not long at all.

“A female voice?” Butler crooned. “And not a business call? I must be dreaming.”

“Then wake yourself up, old friend. I’ve got a small job for you.”


	7. The Raven Himself is Hoarse

“You know better than to ask me to leave your side, Artemis.” Butler’s tone was low and intimidating, at least to any normal person. Artemis knew his bodyguard better. His voice was rumbling because he was worried. The extra layer to his words were the result of thousands of exposures to Artemis’ schemes, and he could tell he was about to be drawn into yet another.

“You have no problem being away while I’m at University,” Artemis countered. Butler reeled.

“Your father ordered me to stop following you into school!” his hands gesticulated wildly, and Artemis knew he’d hit a nerve. Of course, it had been intentional. “Even you said to stay away! As your bodyguard, it’s all I can do to stay in my surveillance pod opposite-,” he stopped himself and Artemis’ eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Ah ha, so you do follow me.” As usual, the boy was smug as the cat who got the cream. Butler couldn’t help but roll his eyes in exasperation.

“You tricked me.”

“I had thought you would be watching me,” Artemis shrugged. “But you were concealing it so well, the only way to be sure was to tag you. Of course, I wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Butler sounded tired and his age was showing in his expression.

“Alright, alright. What is it you want me to do? This isn’t me agreeing, by the way.”

“Certainly not,” Artemis grinned. His manservant began to feel doubt chew at his gut again. The boy was up to something. “It’s just a bit of research, anyhow. You won’t be far from me. I can call out at any time.”

“Can’t I do this research from the back of the room you’re in? Or even better, can’t it wait?”

“I’m not having you ruining a perfect presentation by sitting in the back, jabbing at the keyboard. And no, it can’t wait. There’s a lady attending this meeting that may be able to aid me with something. That’s why I need the information now.”

“… _What_ information?”

“There has been an article published about me on a small internet news site. The web page itself is run by an insignificant company, but I did a little digging and the editor-in-chief also works for another company, which is owned by a businessman I believe may have taken an interest in me. My assumption is he has used this news site to spark gossip about the Fowls. The question now is, why?”

“How do you know that the businessman is behind all this, and not the news site? Why isn’t this just like all the other gossip articles someone invents about you?”

“Because all the photos on the recent articles about me have been taken with a high-quality camera. If this was an opportunist student selling pictures of me to news sites, firstly, is it likely they happened to have a high-quality camera on them to take this shot? The zoom quality is incredible; they could have been up to 100m away – this wasn’t a mobile phone shot.

“Secondly, why chose a news page that is not based in Dublin? Or even, Ireland? The website is run from London, and most of the gossip articles are about B-list celebrities living in or around London. To run a story about an Irish University student just seems bizarre.”

“Not if he’s the same teenager that sold the pyramids to an American businessman at 11 years old.”

“10,” Artemis corrected, “But no matter. You should have taken an interest by now. I’m surprised you haven’t clicked on. Madame Ko would surely be turning in her grave.” Butler pondered for a few seconds, running through what his charge had said and trying his best to fit the pieces together. It was only when he decided to think like ‘Butler’ and not like ‘Artemis’, that he realised why he should be concerned.

“Someone’s tailing you,” he said, grimly, already checking each corner of the room like some bad guy would spring from under the bed.

“Exactly. If the photos are that high-quality and that frequent, they’ve paid someone to follow me.”

“Why would they do that? What’s their objective?”

“That, old friend,” Artemis crossed his arms, once again sporting his customary smirk, “is my little research task for you. I’m afraid we’re running out of time – I have to go set up. You have enough information to get started; I’ll see you in approximately an hour.”

“Keep your microphone on, Artemis,” Butler said before his charge left the room, cursing that once again, he’d been strung along with Artemis’ wishes. He knew he would be.

Artemis tapped his watch, which concealed the tiny microphone he’d installed for emergencies. The microphone had only two recipients programmed in: Butler and Foaly. He’d send the centaur a courteous message informing him to ignore the emergency call he would be receiving for the next hour, but no doubt the centaur would take the rare opportunity to listen in on every word.

The meeting room was long and thin, with an oval-shaped glass table in the centre of the room and dark leather chairs facing front. He plugged his tablet into the control system, flicking on the projector that whirred into life. _I should have brought my own set-up_ , he complained to himself. The projector’s hum made far too much noise, and the quality of the focus was mediocre. If he brought his own equipment with him for every minor inconvenience, though, he’d be weighed down by hundreds of bags every day. Or at least, Butler would. Sometimes it was nice to go old-school, if only to appreciate modern technology more.

He skimmed his presentation quickly, making final checks for grammatical errors or typos though he was content that his specially programmed LexiCorrector would have caught anything. The system was able to pick up his frequent corrections and even gave him a weekly feedback report of which words he had overused to ensure his vocabulary remained extensive and up to date, as well as concise. For example, there were a few Irish-isms to his terminology that the LexiCorrector highlighted to him, though he decided to let most of them slip and programmed Lexi to ignore them. Afterall, there was nothing wrong with being Irish.

When his audience finally arrived, he scanned the room and mentally checked through each face. The owner of FortC Tech at the front peered at him over thick lenses, beside him his close companion the owner of Mayflower Engineering – she gave him an equally calculating look. Everyone he expected to arrive was here, plus a few new faces. With a quick, surreptitious face search by the angled rear camera on his mobile phone, he was able to confirm their identities. He’d requested his invited audience bring along anyone else they believed may be interested in his proposal.

His proposal had been simplified and distributed to a set number of people. Essentially, he’d devised a turbine-like contraption that could fit to pretty much anything and capture its latent energy. It was available in sizes from fingernail equivalent to industrial. People in their homes could attach the device to their shower faucet or to a static bike and as the turbine spun, it would charge the battery and a small LED would indicate when full. That device then plugged into a larger battery, which transformed the kinetic energy into electrical and stored it. For ordinary families, it could be a reasonably priced gadget to feel better about their energy consumption and save a couple of pennies on energy bills. For big businesses, this was a renewable energy solution of a much smaller design than most other transformers. Gyms could attach them to exercise bikes or treadmills to self-charge. Even the turnstiles in football stadiums could generate power all day long, on average reducing monthly bills by 20%.

And now his product was ready for market, finally. He just needed to make sure the market was ready for AF Tech to explode onto the scene, with devices like this and at least twelve others ready to sell in their millions. He only worried that studying at University was not going to allow him the free time to capitalise on all the opportunities about to be thrown his way. However, he’d postponed this product a year and a half already – he could no longer do that. The world was catching up, and it wouldn’t be long before his ideas were beaten to the finish line.

 _There’s just not enough seconds in my lifetime,_ he allowed himself a quick side thought while he waited for the video he’d prepared to load. As he thought, he should have brought the signal booster with him.

He dimmed the lights, which allowed him to peer into the audience once more and examine each face. More specifically, he was able to scrutinise Mrs Aisling Tyler – a media conglomerate, here as the representative Artemis had chosen to have the inside scoop on all Artemis Fowl Technology products. Also, the woman he needed to speak to regarding a certain media conglomerate, who just happened to be her nearest competitor.

As he launched into his speech, he was suddenly cast back in time. He was in Iceland, his close friends gathered before him as he described AF Tech’s first revolutionary technology. He had recently chosen to split AF Tech into two businesses: one for over ground and one for under it. The Icelandic pitch had been for his faery friends only, a product far too advanced for current human technology. Once he’d made that decision, each planned product was carefully streamlined to the correct market. He was preparing to launch some of his products into Haven as early as he could establish a logistical chain. The main difficulty was getting all this past the centaur, who would no doubt shut down this operation once he got hold of it (if he were even able to). Trading with the humans was illegal under faery law. Artemis had been scrolling through faery law manuals for months now, scribbling down the loopholes in every argument. As soon as he found enough evidence, he’d hire a faery lawyer and get his products launched. No doubt the centaur would be upset – Foaly’s technology mostly owned the marketplace. It was going to be a challenge to squeeze in there, but Artemis Fowl was all about finding the next challenge these days. He couldn’t go ahead with any illegal ventures, so he had to find his adrenaline hits from elsewhere.

The faces of his friends twisted in his mind. They weren’t looking at him with awe and fascination, as he expected. Instead, they seemed … to pity him. He took a break from his speech to take a sip of water – he needed the reprise. _Get back on track, Artemis,_ he thought. _Don’t be swayed by the past. If you keep thinking about things like that, you’ll make a disastrous error. This is far too important._

He returned his focus to the project and to his presentation, bringing up a 3D image of the product on screen and rotating it 360 degrees. He opened up for questions, allowing his guests to query the products mechanisms. He gladly skeletonised the image to view the interior, though some key parts were blocked out – he didn’t entirely trust that one of his guests wouldn’t be able to instantly memorise the mechanisms and replicate it before he managed to get it into market. Was he paranoid? No, a bit of paranoia was good. Something like this was an obvious move, it wasn’t a sign his Atlantis Complex was coming back.

Yet, earlier on, he’d seen the five pillars outside the front of reception, and it had relaxed him somehow. No, this was all in his head. He was looking for problems where they didn’t exist. He was already cured of Atlantis. He stumbled over a word in his otherwise flawless commentary and quickly regained his composure. Next door, Artemis imagined Butler frowning.

_Back on track, stop distracting yourself._

That was the problem with his mind lately. Overactive. Searching for imperfections and problems constantly, a barrage of non-stop criticisms running through his conscious. He picked out every single flicker of an expression in others and his mind was interpreting it before he could stop himself. Maybe he’d never felt this before because he never had time to. Or perhaps now that his conscious had awakened, it had switched on some other part of his brain that was trying to distinguish his old self from his new one.

He brought the presentation to a close. Hopefully, Butler had found the information he needed.

“We’ll now take a short break for you all to refresh yourselves and consider my proposal before I take any final questions. Please make good use of the tea and coffee machines.”

Once a small buzz of chatter had developed in the room, the door to the left of Artemis clicked open and Butler entered.

“Did you find anything, Domovoi?”

“I didn’t train in intelligence gathering, Artemis. I’ve found some things of interest, but I wouldn’t call them ‘motives’. I traced all the recent news articles about you and their sources. I’m pretty certain that they’re owned by the same media company. Or as least, the companies are sharing resources. All the pictures are the same, and the articles are worded identically. That businessman you mentioned – is it Mr Jay Arthur Lamb? He seems to be the overall owner. About ten years ago, he wasn’t a media conglomerate but worked as a prosecutor. He was all over the news himself – ironic, really. He lost a case quite dramatically – broke down in court. Became a laughingstock in the barrister world.”

“Ah…” Artemis said, his eyes shifting to the ground. “I think I know the case.” Butler knew that look immediately.

“Were you … involved, somehow, Artemis?”

“I might have been.” Artemis shrugged, lightly, remembering to turn off the microphone in his watch.

Butler heaved his shoulders in resignation. “So, this whole thing is because of a grudge? You’re getting tailed and hounded by the media because of a grudge?”

“Perhaps.”

“Artemis Fowl, you’re an enigma.” Butler checked no one was close by, before asking, “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Now is not the time for that. I need to speak with Ms Tyler before this break concedes.”

With that announcement, Artemis headed for the refreshments where his target was pouring herself a cup of tea, chatting freely with the young man she’d arrived with. She had black hair, glossy and straight as an edge. It fell down to her shoulders. She pushed it out of her face, which was a porcelain white. It was almost a stereotypical Irish look – the dark hair and the bright green eyes. Artemis knew quite a bit about her, she’d been on his radar for several years. His father had used their company several times in order to publicise the Fowl’s activities. She was at least forty years old, but she appeared younger. Artemis knew she was a bit of a health fanatic, exercising regularly and advocating for various diets. Even more interesting than her looks though was her intelligent personality. He’d met with her before, and she proved herself to be an astute businesswoman. He knew persuading her to help him would require a considered approach.

“Ms Tyler, I’m glad you could make it today.” He offered out his hand and she took it, offering him a pleasant smile.

“Mr Fowl, you’re working hard as ever. Just like your father.”

“I thank you for the compliment. I was wondering if I could have a minute of your time.”

“Go ahead, this young man is my secretary,” she gestured to the long-legged young adult beside her, who nodded.

“Jack, nice to meet you.”

“Jack,” Artemis took his hand and shook it firmly. “Good to meet you. I’m afraid what I want to discuss is not for the ears of others, Ms Tyler.”

“Jack can be trusted. He’s been working with me for several years now.”

“Then that’s fine with me. I’d just like to pull you away from the crowd.”

They stepped away from the other businessmen and women towards the front of the room, sufficient distance to speak without others overhearing.

“Have you heard of a Mr Jay Lamb?”

“Have I heard of him?” Aisling shuddered. “Awful human being. Unfortunately, he’s one of our biggest competitors. They deal more with gossip than with genuine good reporting. Its businesses like his that drag down the reputation of the media.”

“That’s certainly the man. He’s taken an interest in me.”

“I was aware, actually.” Aisling nodded. “I keep track of things like that.”

“I thought you might.”

“Any reason why he has decided to target you, Mr Fowl?”

“Perhaps one,” Artemis waved a hand, dismissively. “An old grudge. I had been that focussed on my projects that the articles had completely slipped my radar. This problem has only just come to my attention.”

“Is it really a problem? Junk news articles like that don’t usually concern you.”

“Not particularly. I have two concerns though. First, his behaviour has been unusually persistent. This is more than a simple grudge: to hire people to follow me would suggest that trash articles are not his only plan of action. Secondly, he has been bothering one of my classmates and I’d rather not drag them into my affairs.”

“And you want me to investigate?”

“It is in both of our interests that we cooperate on this matter, I believe. I’m not asking you specifically to investigate, but to keep me informed of anything you hear. I want to keep an eye on his movements. I want to know what businesses he owns, who he speaks with, what interest he takes in Fowl affairs.”

“And in return?”

“Well,” Artemis let one of his old-style vampire smirks tease his lips, “that all depends how I decide to take him down.” Aisling shook her head, but she was smiling.

“So, you’re planning to get rid of one of our competitors? That’s our reward?”

“Does that displease you, Ms Tyler?”

Aisling cracked a sneer that could have competed with Artemis’. She certainly lived up to his expectations. “No, it does not, young Fowl.”


	8. To Know Faithful Friend From Flattering Foe

Artemis Fowl was already wondering if he was going to regret his current actions. He was seated in a café sipping on a freshly brewed cappuccino, waiting on female company. Behind him, conspicuous even despite his best attempts to blend in, sat Butler. They were back to back, Artemis facing the front window of the café and Butler facing inside, even though they’d argued over it for at least five minutes before they got out of the car. Argued was perhaps a misleading term – Butler had said that under absolutely no circumstances would he sit with his back to Artemis and further to that, he must be facing the window. He went on to explain his reasoning, hoping to impart his bodyguarding concerns onto his young charge, to share his perception with the perceptive young adult. His tone was not one to be argued with. He gave his firmest scowl which very few people in this world had chosen to ignore. Yet here they were.

Butler flipped a page of the newspaper he was reading, using the noise to cover a sly comment. “Just one of these days I’d like to be able to do my job properly, Artemis.”

“We’ve survived statistically 100% of our adventures to date.” Artemis replied under his breath but paused when he came to a realisation. “Well, actually, with the incident with Spiro and then the whole Berserker Gate fiasco, you and I have both technically died.”

“Not helping, Artemis.”

“All I’m trying to say is that you’ve done an excellent job so far, old friend.”

Butler huffed, unconvinced. “Despite your best efforts to kill us both off.”

“Hush now, Dom,” Artemis coughed slightly and replaced his cup to the saucer. “She’s here.”

Butler couldn’t help but made another remark under his breath. “I never thought I’d be crashing your first date.”

Artemis had to hold his tongue to correct Butler. This was not a date. This was business. And he was feeling quite guilty about it already. He was trying to see the ends as a way to justify the means. Katherina peered through the glass window of the café and spotted Artemis. She smiled, slightly, then entered. Her hair was vibrant as ever, full of life in the way that the wind tunnel of the doorway lifted it from her shoulders. She gestured to his drink quizzically.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, waving his hand. She nodded and then gestured once more to the counter, moving over to order her own beverage.

Artemis took the chance to mutter to Butler. “This isn’t a date.”

“Does she know that?”

“I never once said the word ‘date’ when I asked her to go for a drink with me.”

“It’s usually implied,” Butler scoffed, then ruffled the newspaper loudly. She was returning with a drink in her hand. The glass was tall and clear so Artemis could deduce that it was a hot chocolate, the foamy marshmallows nearly toppling over the rim and chocolate sprinkles dusted on top. She sat down opposite Artemis.

“Sweet tooth?” He asked. She already had a spoonful of gloop in her mouth as she tried to save the toppings from spilling.

“Reminds me of home,” she replied. “My mum always used to make me these. I don’t come out for drinks often; I’m trying to save money. Living the student life.”

“I’m honoured,” Artemis smiled, then caught himself. He was unintentionally going into ‘business’ mode. And though that sounded like it would be a rather hard and calculating character to adopt, it was actually the side of himself he used to charm people. Business Artemis was socially adept, able to strike up a conversation with anyone and captivate them, lure them into a deal. Absolutely not the right character to adopt for a coffee with an ordinary university student – perhaps it would work on the spoiled children of an affluent family, but here it could be misconstrued…

He realised he was sweating a little. He was not used to meeting with ordinary folk for ordinary conversation. Further to that, there was no real goal to the conversation – his plan revolved around what was going on outside the two of them. That meant he had to babble on about pointless things until … well, until his plan began to unfold. He wasn’t used to this. He didn’t know Kat well enough, not like Holly. He could talk with Holly for hours. Maybe he should have asked her for advice … only for her to laugh in his face! That was a silly idea. He didn’t have many of those – must be nervous. A cough from behind spurred him into action.

“Ah, you’re well, I trust?” Damn, not so smooth now.

“Yeah, I’m doing fine. I’ve managed to complete quite a lot on the assignment so I think I will be done by the end of next week. What about you?”

“Yes, I’m doing … fine.”

“You’ve probably already finished, haven’t you?”

“I had to complete it prior to my business trip. It would be disastrous to attempt to handle both at once.”

“What are you doing on your business trip?” She asked and appeared genuinely interested. This was odd, purely since both Holly and Butler would roll their eyes whenever he tried to talk about ‘work’. Holly would hit him over the head and tell him to relax once in a while and Butler would bombard him with questions like, “How are we getting there?”, “Which alias are we using?”, “Is this legal?” … When Artemis had once tried to explain his ideas to Juliet Butler, she had left the room.

“I’m in discussions with the Mayor of London about our waste disposal. I’ve got a proposition for him that will help reduce our reliance on China, which is where we ship most of our garbage at the moment.”

Kat’s eyes widened. She almost didn’t seem to believe him. “… You’re meeting the Mayor of London?”

“Yes, him and a few others.”

“Artemis … are you kidding me?”

Artemis was beginning to look as confused as she was. “… Yes. He read my proposal and offered me to present next week.”

“That’s amazing!” She gasped. “You’re so young and already having an incredible impact on the world. How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Get an audience with the Mayor? Is this a regular occurrence for you?”

“Well, no, I’ve only met him a couple of times before. I don’t really get involved with politics and I usually focus my attentions to Ireland. However, this is a global issue.”

“Incredible. You know, there’s so many rumours about you that I never know what to believe.”

“Don’t believe any of them.” Artemis’ gaze darkened. He finished his drink but kept the cup in his hands for the warmth.

“They’re not all bad,” Kat leaned onto the table, tilting her head. Her eyes were a brilliant green. “The rumours, I mean. They’re not all bad. People talk about how incredible you are. They tell spectacular stories, like that you were the first human to beat the computer chess champion Deep Blue III and that the programmers had to redesign its system afterwards. They say you rose the Fowl company out of the ashes when you were nine. They even say that you designed the lock system that’s used on the Crown Jewels.”

“Things like that are trivial,” Artemis dismissed, searching out of the window for something to occupy his attention. It should be about time.

“I wouldn’t call them trivial … Artemis,” her sudden change in tone flipped his attention from outside back to those emerald green eyes. “Are you going to tell me why I’m here?”

He jumped a little in his seat. This was unexpected. She almost appeared to have dropped an act, one eyebrow raised coolly, and the bright smile had faded. It was like looking back at himself. The way he would flip a switch when he wanted, the way her expression dared him to lie to her … He shuffled his feet under the table, out of sight.

“What do you mean, Katherina?”

“Artemis Fowl doesn’t invite girls out for drinks, does he?” She said, folding her arms tightly and waiting for an explanation. “I don’t know you well, but I do know you to be unsociable and hard to approach. There must be a reason you called me here.”

He began to wonder if all females had this inert power to jolt his subconscious and make his stomach twinge with guilt. His mother and Holly had the act down to an art now.

“Well, it was partly to apologise,” Artemis began, meeting her eyes coolly and deciding to drop his own performance. She clearly could see straight through it. “And partly to use you a little.”

“Use me?”

“Butler, across the road in the blue jacket. Black jeans. Hiding behind the telephone box.” Behind him rose the enormous figure of Butler, playtime over. He folded the newspaper carefully, taking a quick glance at Katherina as he passed. He didn’t mean to glare, but it was in his nature to intimidate people around Artemis. Just in case. She flinched under his eyes and looked at Artemis in shock.

“What’s going on?”

“That’s my manservant, Butler. Butler is his name, not his occupation, though I can see the confusion. He’s about to apprehend an individual that has been following the both of us for the last few weeks. Namely me, but after a short investigation, it appears he has been frequenting your house as well.”

“My house?!”

“Yes. He’s a journalist looking for gossip articles about me.”

“Like the one the other day?”

“Exactly. I apologise for getting you caught up in all of this.” Artemis decided to order another drink – this was probably going to need a bit further explaining. Meanwhile, Katherina span in her seat to watch as Butler plucked the man up in his spade-like hands and dragged him back towards the café. Her mouth dropped open. “Would you like another drink, Miss Palmer?”

She turned back, slowly. “I think I need something stronger than caffeine.”

A minute or so later, Butler plonked the shivering man down into a seat at their table, pulling up his own chair so that the table for two became a bit less romantic. Artemis sipped his fresh coffee calmly. Their new guest had a huge mess of frizzy dark hair and the stubble of an unshaven face. He was in his twenties and appeared rather naïve to his new situation. He glanced nervously around the table, meeting the eyes of several unfriendly folk. Artemis barely looked in his direction but when he did, his blue eyes were piercing, appearing to look straight through his skin and bone. Butler held a firm watch on him, threatening even when expressionless. His pure bulk was enough to stun the man into silence. The third person at the table offered a little more comfort but not much. She looked as confused as he felt, but the sharpness in her stare hit a nerve. She wasn’t happy.

When no one spoke, the man felt he was inclined to speak. “C-can I help you?”

“Firstly, you can show me the images you have on that camera.” The young male said, the steam of his coffee curling around his features.

“W-what camera?” He knew immediately that he shouldn’t have played innocent. Butler coughed, lightly.

“The one in your bag. You’ve been following us for weeks, haven’t you? Taking photos?”

“I-i-is that illegal?”

“Hmm, now is it?” Artemis spared a slight grin that sent a shiver down the journalist’s spine. “The law is certainly vague around photography in a public place, but the law around harassment is very clear. And using a telescopic lens to photograph private property … At the very least, you’d receive a steep fine for the photography. Possibly more if I used my lawyers to push on a harassment case.”

“It’s not harassment!” The journalist was sweating now. “It’s journalism!”

“Again, a fine line.” He refrained from pushing further. The man was clearly distressed and there was such a thing as an optimal distress level for interrogations. If he pushed too hard, the man might clam up. “However, though I have extensive evidence on our CCTV of you hovering around Fowl Manor and Katherina, and despite the evidence I could gather on your stalking … I am willing to break a deal instead.”

“… What deal?”

“That’s a good start,” Artemis became more and more vampire-like by the second. His grin was showing the sliver of a white tooth now. He suddenly noticed a presence opposite him and flicked his attention to Katherina. Her brow was furrowed. She certainly wasn’t impressed. He hadn’t expected her to be, of course. Though, he wasn’t used to have a witness to his behaviour. There it was… that twinge. He was doing this to help her, to get the journalists off her back … why did she look so upset?

“I won’t release this evidence if you cease to follow us. And I do not want you to pass on to your employers that you have stopped following me. I want you to continue to report, but state that I have done nothing of note. You will also delete the photographs you have.”

“I don’t want to lose my job.” The man looked fearful, wringing his hands nervously.

“That’s why I am offering you this life-line. If I get my lawyers onto the case, you will certainly experience more in your life than a loss of employment.”

He considered it. He didn’t think for very long. He hadn’t been left many options. “… I will delete the photos.”

Butler took this moment to step in. “You best make a start then,” he growled, lowly. “Right now.” The journalist didn’t need to be told twice. Reluctantly, he unzipped his bag and pulled out a professional Olympus camera. He began to flick through the photos, the tinny beep of the menu breaking through the speakers.

“And just to reiterate the point, I do not want your employers finding out that I know. And if, for some crazy reason, you decide to disobey me and I see another slanderous article …”

“I can’t stop others from writing the articles!” The man stopped deleting to announce desperately. He was so flustered, he found himself shouting. Artemis’ cool stare soon forced him to continue deleting the photos in silence.

“Trust me, I will know if you have betrayed me.”

“Artemis,” Katherina finally spoke. “That’s enough.” She was gritting her teeth a little. “There’s no need for you to terrify the man like this. It’s not right.”

Artemis was more than a little baffled. “You are aware he’s the one harassing you, right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been listening to your performance.” She scorned. Her attention turned to the man and suddenly he felt three, not two, hostile presences at the table. He swallowed. “An apology will suffice for me. I haven’t heard you say it yet.” Artemis couldn’t stop himself from snorting and rolled his eyes. The man seemed a little sheepish, chewing on his lip. Eventually, he turned his body to face her and lowered his head a little.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. And for harassing you. I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I thought I was doing my job.”

“Apology accepted.” She nodded. “Now, I’m leaving. I don’t want to watch you interrogate this man anymore. You’ve made my drink taste off.” She stood and began to put on her coat.

“W-wait!” Artemis found himself getting to his feet to go after her. “I’ll drive you back.” It would equally leave a bad taste in his mouth if she walked away like this. Afterall, this was supposed to be for her safety. It was supposed to make amends for getting her wrapped up in his business.

“I can catch the bus,” she said, turning to go. “But thank you for the offer.”

“No, Kat,” Artemis darted around the table and touched her arm lightly. “Honestly, I want to drive you back. I have enough to apologise for. In fact, I’ve just realised that I haven’t even apologised to you yet … for inviting you here to lure this man in. I realise it was rude of me …” Artemis’ mind whirred, his eyes bounced around the café. He couldn’t let her leave like this. This wasn’t how he had planned. He hadn’t meant to upset her. “Butler, I’ll meet you back at the manor. Please see to it this man keeps true to his promise.”

“Art-,” Butler spluttered but he was cut off.

“Please let me make amends properly.” Artemis reached the door before her, opening it and turning back to meet her eyes. She looked sceptic.

“Fine!” She sighed, exasperated. “It’ll save on bus fares!”

“Excellent,” Artemis found himself smiling.

“Maybe next time we can go for a drink without there being an ulterior motive!” Katherina marched past. Artemis paused briefly at her words.

Had he … just made another friend?


	9. O teach me how I should forget to think

They sat in silence in the car. Artemis observed her out of the corner of his eye, watching as she wrung her fingers awkwardly. He was never usually this stuck for conversation. Not so long ago, he’d subtly turned up the radio to fill the tense atmosphere, but for once Mozart was not easing his nerves.

He knew he’d done something wrong; he just didn’t understand what. She was being harassed and surely the gentlemanly thing to do would be to eradicate that threat from her life. She should be happy. She should have thanked him by now. Instead, though she’d offered a peace-broker of another coffee sometime, the air between them was still heavy. Back in the café, she had seemed angry at him, upset even. He could understand if she was angry that he had not told her the true intention of their meeting, but Artemis was receptive enough to infer that she was not angry at that deception … Should he ask her? He retreated into his mind to envisage Holly in that café instead – what would she have done?

In his mind’s eye, Holly berates him for not being honest with her. She tells him, ‘you should have just said why you invited me out!’, and then, ‘honestly, we never get to meet for just an ordinary chat’. As Butler dragged back the journalist and seated him firmly opposite the two of them, Holly would scowl at her harasser, interrogate him. She’d be angry – not at Artemis, but at the man who had threatened her privacy. And then, as Artemis scorned the man, she’d … there was that twinge again. Of guilt. Like he was doing something wrong. He probably wouldn’t have acted like that in front of Holly – he couldn’t do it because he was reminded of his twelve-year-old self shooting her with a dart and caging her like an animal, not a person.

Katherina interrupted his thoughts. Or, more accurately, her phone did. It began to sound a bird-like trill of song.

“Sorry,” she said, “Do you mind?” Artemis waved his hand and she answered. In the short space between them, he couldn’t help but listen in to her end of the conversation. “Hello? Yes, that’s me.” There followed an immediate silence as Katherina listened intently to the other side of the phone. Artemis spared her a quick glance to judge her expression. Her eyes were ever so slightly enlarged, anxious. “Is he okay? … When did this happen? Which hospital did you say you were calling from? I can’t … I’m in Ireland, I can’t … My brother is away, too. Yes, please use this number. No, I don’t think … unless one of his friends can go … Oh my god.”

“Is everything alright?” Artemis asked in a whisper, noticing the way she was stammering her words now, clearly disconcerted. She looked over and it was clear in her expression that things were not okay. Artemis decided to pull over in the car, waiting for the next turning to move off the main road. Once he pulled into a small housing estate, he waited patiently for Katherina to finish her phone call.

“Can I ring this number?” She continued, now subconsciously scratching her forearm in distress. “Thank you. No, thank you. Yes. Bye.” Her finger tapped the red button and she took a shaky breath. Artemis didn’t push her. Once she had composed herself, she turned her cat-like green eyes towards him. “Do you mind driving me to the airport?”

“Where do you need to go?”

“To England. My dad lives there. He’s fallen off a ladder at work and I think he’s in a really bad way. Probably spinal damage.” Though she tried to control her tone, her voice cracked towards the end of her sentence. Artemis pulled back onto the road. He re-orientated himself, not heading for the airport, but for Fowl Manor. Katherina seemed to notice they were going the wrong way.

“I was planning to fly to England tomorrow. I have no problem arriving a day earlier.”

“Oh, okay.” She nodded, slightly confused but too shaken to think straight. “Do you need to head back for your bags?”

“And for my private jet.” He smiled, softly. It wasn’t the type of brag he usually made; today it felt in good taste - a little light-hearted joke in a time of stress.

“Your-!” Her jaw dropped. “You are kidding me, right?”

“I am Artemis Fowl the Second. I don’t kid, Kathie.” It was the first time he had called her this way and the way her eyebrows twitched showed that she noticed. He hoped he hadn’t crossed the boundary in their friendship. He found that when Holly started calling him Arty, it had been endearing. Whenever he was feeling a little low, hearing her address him as Arty helped to raise his spirits a little. He hoped doing so would have a similar effect on his new friend. “Where in England do you need to go?”

“Winchester.”

“Then the nearest airport would be Southampton, correct?” She nodded, slowly. “That’s a small airport, there’s probably not a direct flight. To get there would be extortionate. You’d probably have to take the train from London.”

“You’ve really got a private jet?”

“I have.”

“And a pilot?” She asked. Artemis blew air between his lips in a slightly undignified manner.

“Miss Kat, I’ve had a pilot’s license since I was fourteen.”

“Well sorry for asking,” she laughed, softly, and the sound was relieving. “You honestly don’t mind? You’re heading to London, aren’t you? This is out of your way.”

“Hardly,” Artemis scoffed. “I’ve always wanted to see the original capital of England. I’ve never actually been to Winchester.” The car slowed at the lights and Artemis turned his head towards her, once again throwing her another smile – one which he truly hoped looked reassuring. There was still an anxious knot in her forehead. “And also … I know how it feels to nearly lose your father.”

Katherina’s gaze fell into her lap. She averted her eyes outside of the window, her hair falling to cover her face from his view. “I’m really sorry, Artemis,” she said. He was immediately puzzled – what had he done now? “I’m sorry because I thought you were a bad person. When people talked about you, they said you were a psychopath – absolutely no regard for others, able to cut people like glass with your words and have no remorse for it.” Artemis blinked several times, still unsure where this apology was going. He tried to focus on the road as he pulled off the motorway and into the country lanes leading to his Manor. “Although, that can be true,” she continued, “I’ve learned there’s more to you than that. I didn’t think I was such a judgemental person. You’re a really good guy.”

She raised a finger to her right eye and Artemis caught her clearing away a tear. This caused him to thoroughly panic.

“Ah, uh-!” he fumbled for the right words to say. After all, she had just revealed something quite flattering to him, even though she was the one in distress. As a gentleman, he should say something back. “Your father will be fine,” the words eventually spilled from his mouth. It was the only thing he could think of. “And we’ll get you there in no time.”

They rolled up the driveway to Fowl Manor, wheels crunching over the pebbled front driveway; he would usually park in the underground garage, but they were in a rush. He hoped his parents would not be home, but something told him his hope would be fleeting. Katherina was wide-eyed, trying not to let her expression show how astonished he was, her head craning back to see the full expanse of the manor. Artemis pressed the handbrake and took out the keys from the ignition, trying to skirt round the car to help her out but she was already on her feet.

“I’ll show you inside to the living room. Do you need anything bringing from your house? I can send Butler. He won’t be longer than half an hour.”

“You even have a butler,” she blew air through pursed lips and laughed, the sound stilted and forced.

“No, not a butler, Butler … never mind. Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you. I have some clothes as my dad’s house.”

Artemis keyed in his 8-digit code on a block beside the front door that was disguised as an ordinary stone. The front slid open, revealing a fingerprint pad. A light flashed just above the pad to indicate that the alarms were deactivated. Someone was home. He pushed his ring finger onto the pad, holding it until a small vibration signified that he had been accepted as an owner. The front door clicked. They stepped into the Grand Hallway, two staircases spiralling off to different corners of the house, a chandelier the size of a stag proudly hanging from the centre of the ceiling. A man with palms large enough to crush tree trunks descended the staircase on the left, his build and gait like that of a silverback gorilla. It was, of course, Butler.

“Nice to meet you again so soon, Miss Palmer.” The expression Butler’s face clearly battled between professionalism and the notion of teasing his young charge. Artemis placed a hand on Katherina’s back, softly directing her towards the living room. As Butler fell into step beside him, he made a quick remark, “I’ll remember to knock before I come in. Never thought I’d see the day that Artemis Fowl would bring a girl home.”

“Get your things, Butler. We’re heading to England.” Once in the living room – the only room in the house that didn’t appear to be straight out of an eighteenth century romance novel – Artemis gestured to the lounge chair in front of a television that could have been a window for the size of it. “Take a seat,” he said, picking up some of the twin’s toys as he walked and dropping them back into their storage boxes, “I’ll be with you shortly.”

“Thank you, Artemis,” Katherina replied. As she sat, it appeared as though the life drained out of her for a second. She stared blankly at the screen in front of her, green eyes suddenly exhausted. It made Artemis pause – his entire soul seemed to reach out to her in empathy. He found the emotion somewhat novel. He had never had a friend his age and to encounter one in a similar position of trouble that he had been in some years ago was making him react in a way he wouldn’t have expected. He felt he would go out of his way to help her. A shadow fell over him for a fraction of a second. Was he just using her to rid himself of his own demons? Subconsciously, was he trying to remedy his past through her?

Butler followed Artemis out of the room before he spoke.

“ _England_ , Artemis?”

“Ahead of schedule,” Artemis agreed, jogging up the stairs two at a time, “but no matter. Her father is in hospital, so I offered to drop her off.”

“In the jet?”

“Yes, old friend. Pack your things.”

“Artemis, I’m always packed. I’m a bodyguard.”

“Then could you make her some jasmine tea? It might help settle her nerves.”

“Artemis, not to pry into the mind space of an adolescent, but this is all a bit sudden. We barely know the girl and now you’re flying her abroad?”

“We’re helping out someone in need. It is not far out of our way. We were intending on flying to London tomorrow. A stop-off in the southwest of England the day before does not massively trouble us.”

“Hmm,” Butler hummed, not convinced. “The other thing is, Artemis, as your bodyguard …” he lowered his voice even though they were long since out of ear shot, “I don’t really trust her.”

“If you trusted everyone immediately upon meeting them, we’d have both been dispatched a long time ago.” Artemis dismissed. Butler shrugged his huge shoulders – Artemis had a point. He usually did. Still, Butler would remain alert against this young woman. First, there were the articles about her and Artemis in the news. Then, all of a sudden, she needs a lift to England the day before Artemis was set to fly there? It could be nothing. However, it was Butlers job to think of the nothings.

In the back of his mind, he thought this might be a good opportunity for Artemis. Recently, he’d been depressed. For a long time, Butler hadn’t known whether ‘depression’ was the right diagnosis - was he just lonely? He didn’t have many friends and the ones he did were inaccessible and at least twice his age. Boredom, then? He wondered if that was the case. The boy had always been against some sort of world catastrophe since a young age and it was clear Artemis loved the thrill of a plan. Even though he was keeping extremely busy juggling the life of a student against the life of a young genius and leader of an economic empire, he could simply be bored. Now that Butler could see the return of the twinkle in Artemis’ eye, he saw retrospectively that his charge had truly been depressed.

The signs were all there: disrupted sleeping patterns, occasional irritability, the guilt he would sometimes mention that hung over him, lack of motivation in things that usually inspired him, and at times his weight seemed to fluctuate until Angeline Fowl always forced him back onto a healthy and regular eating pattern. He was also becoming reckless with his own safety. He had noticed it mostly with Artemis’ late night walks, his lab experiments where he ‘forgot’ to wear the proper protection, and then his suspicion was topped off with Artemis’ inclination to lean so far out of his window. It was like his charge was tempting fate, daring it to harm him.

Hopefully, it had not been a severe depression. However, Butler knew that his charge was adept at hiding things from him – especially when they related to his mental health. He had somehow managed to hide his descent into Atlantis Complex until it was too late to avert his path into outright delusion. Butler sometimes lay awake at night, thinking about what might have happened if the whole incident in Iceland had not occurred. Perhaps, he would have slowly decayed into madness to the point where Artemis damaged more than just his relationships with others. If Butler was not careful, this depression might swallow his charge up before he even knew about it.

As usual, Artemis’ greatest enemy was himself.

Butler followed Artemis absentmindedly, completely ignoring his request for jasmine tea. In his thoughtful state, he’d lumbered after Artemis until the boy entered his room and glanced back, quizzically.

“Tea?”

“Ah, yes.” Butler nodded. “Tea.” Before he turned to head back downstairs, Artemis stopped him by clearing his throat apologetically.

“Tea was just a suggestion, Butler. You know well that you are my friend, not a manservant now, don’t you?”

“Manservant and a bodyguard,” Butler replied. “I know I’m old, but it’s still written in my contract.” Although he was grateful for Artemis to have those intentions now, especially after all they had been through, he did not want to be pitied. This old dog still had some tricks in him. “I’ll make the tea, Artemis. Angeline would hit the roof if she found out that you had brought a girl home and we hadn’t offered her tea.”

Artemis’ lip curled into a quick smile. “Our secret.” He said, charmingly, and Butler suddenly thought that his young charge had become very handsome as he had matured. His face was angular and long with high cheek bones, his thick dark hair the spitting image of his father. When he wasn’t sporting his usual misunderstood-teenage-prodigy expression – one of a singular raised brow and a twist in his nose like he could smell something foul – his bright blue eyes were playful and young. Butler couldn’t help one last remark.

“I’ll make sure to knock on the cabin door before I intrude.” He didn’t look back to see Artemis’ scowl.


	10. Is Winged Cupid Painted Blind?

When Artemis returned to the living room all packed and ready to go, he caught Katherina holding onto a framed photo and staring blankly down. Butler swept behind Artemis and lifted the bags from his hands, adding them to the already heaving boot of the car. Artemis waited in the doorway for her to move, but her focus was hazy and distant. He cleared his throat.

“Oh,” she said, hastily replacing the photo on the shelf and smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, are those your brothers?”

Artemis flicked his eyes to the photo and noticed that she had been taking in the family image Angeline had forced the family to endure. Not that Artemis was not used to family portraits – just that they usually had a fireplace in the background and a darkness to the pallet. This one was from the twins’ first day of boarding school. Angeline was holding onto a young Myles, pulling him into her chest with a bright smile, her hands wrapped around the toddler’s stomach. Beside her, Artemis Senior tried to hold on to Beckett whilst Artemis Junior was trying to wrestle a mouldy stick from his grasp. The Stick of Sticky Destiny, as Beckett had named it, aptly named by the fact it was always coated in some suspicious goop. Butler had taken the photo. He had taken several, including one where Beckett had been caught stood still for a fraction of a second (unheard of), yet Angeline liked the other shot the most and so it had been printed and framed.

“Yes, Myles and Beckett.”

“And this is your mother? She is beautiful! She looks so young.”

Artemis smiled, genuinely. “Yes, she is. Now, are you ready to go?” She nodded.

Katherina noticed Butler shuttling back and forth from the entranceway to the car loading bags and she scrambled to help. Artemis followed on behind and took hold of his laptop carrier and briefcase. The last bag was forced into the only remaining space in the boot and Butler opened the rear door for Artemis and Katherina. Artemis turned to her and with a flourish of his hands, welcomed her inside the Jaguar. Once she had ducked inside, Artemis swiftly followed. He remembered to text his mother as Butler started the engine, the sound quieter than a breath of air. He informed her that he would be going to England a day early, hoping she wouldn’t cause too much fuss. The response came through almost immediately, simply saying ‘have a good trip x’.

She must be pre-occupied. The last time he had spoken to her, she had been following the journey of a charity fundraiser on some live video as they ran a series of ultra-marathons through the desert. She had become so enamoured with the young environmentalist’s passion that she had sworn to assist the teenager on his journey. She was helping to promote his activities, calling all her friends, and arranging coffee mornings in local schools. A twinge of guilt twisted Artemis’ stomach … how long had it been since he’d spoken to his mother? Properly, not just passing greetings. She often came to see him, took time out of her day to pop her head in and ask how his day had been … He really needed to start giving back to his parents. Like most of his relationships with others, he was always receiving. He clearly had not changed at all.

Butler drove them across the Fowl grounds towards the short runway besides the aircraft hangar. Once nearby, Artemis pulled out his remote and initiated the opening of the heavy metal door. It rolled up slowly, revealing a beautiful, porcelain-white jet with a glitter of deep black solar panels along both wings. The solar panels were only about a hand’s width along the front edge and generated enough power to run the air conditioning and the lights. Artemis was still working on making the solar panels themselves light enough to line the entire wing, but resilient enough to withstand harsh landings without shattering. And then there was the weight of the battery and the generator he’d need. Each day he chipped away at his blueprints and calculations, getting closer to a solution. If only he could dedicate more time to it. Beside him, Katherina was trying to keep her expression in check as her chin threatened to hit the floor.

“Artemis, do you mind if I ask how you got this much money? I mean, what does your father do?”

Artemis obviously couldn’t tell her that his family’s entire fortune was made from thievery and backhanded deals. Extremely clever deals albeit, but still illegal. True, his father made money now – more than the average person by several times – but he had made much more when his ventures were less … moral.

“The Fowl business covers quite a number of enterprises, but my father did inherit a substantial fortune. It has been the duty of each generation of Fowl to manage those finances over the years, and continue to grow our empire … business empire, that is.”

“You live a completely different life,” Katherina’s voice was a whisper, almost melancholy in emotion. It made Artemis jump and all of a sudden, she felt completely out of his reach. She was sat next to him, and yet now a void had opened between them. ‘A completely different life’ … what did that mean? This ‘void’ flexed, shifted, then rose to swallow him up until he could not see her anymore. All he could see was his own reflection staring back at him from the inky blackness.

“Artemis,” Butler interrupted. “Do you want me to pilot?”

“No,” as the car stopped, Artemis stepped out and set about for the stairs. “I’d like to. I need the thinking time.”

Butler watched his charge disappear up the staircase beside the jet without another word and begin to unlock the cabin door. Meanwhile, he decided to load the baggage trolley ready for Artemis to open the rear door where a conveyor belt had been set up. Katherina took a moment to stand awe-struck in front of the jet, and then scrambled to assist Butler.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” She smiled, brightly.

“Butler,” Butler said.

“… Oh.” She replied. She didn’t ask any more questions.

Eventually, they had the jet loaded up. Katherina was marvelling at Artemis’ self-designed info-tainment system whilst Butler poked his head into the cockpit. “Good to go, Artemis.” He said, like Artemis was not already aware having conducted all the pre-flight checks. Artemis nodded, but continued poking at buttons silently. “What’s the sudden mood swing for?” Butler asked, abruptly. Sometimes he tiptoed around Artemis’ emotions, sometimes the boy just needed a bit of rationale throwing at him. Artemis immediately floundered, too shocked to continue changing the aircraft controls whilst he recovered.

“Mood swing?”

“Artemis, apologies for the stark simile but your face looks like a slapped arse.”

Once again, Artemis found himself aghast for words and his lips mouthed like a goldfish. Eventually, he laughed softly, a small smile finally gracing his expression. “Shut the door, old friend. We’ll discuss it.” Butler did so and settled himself into the co-pilot’s seat as Artemis started the engines. The jet began to rumble and trundled forwards out of the hangar. Upon sensing the absence of the jet on the floor’s weight pad, the hangar door began to close behind them. They rolled out onto the runway and Artemis checked the flaps were functioning as normal.

“I’m hoping those birds will have the sense to move.” Butler commented, gesturing at the flock of pigeons pottering across the tarmac. Artemis hummed, disapprovingly.

“I told mother we should get a trained falcon. She didn’t like the idea. However, I’m sure she’d prefer a falcon pecking at the pigeons to her son’s untimely death.”

Thankfully, the pigeons cleared, and the runway was clear for take-off. Artemis took a second prior to firing up all the engines to speak into the Tannoy.

“Katherina, we’re about to take off. Apologies for leaving you on your own but Butler is going to sit in the co-pilot’s seat for a little while. If you’re worried about anything, the screen in front of you displays all the aircraft data. It will also tell you our ETA. Plus, you can stream any film you’d like. Although my favourite trick I programmed is the language app. The AI allows you to have a conversation with it in any language. You type out a message and it will correct your grammar. You can use speech as well.” Beside him, Butler was shaking his head. Artemis decided to wrap it up. “Enjoy the flight. Hit the speaker button above you if you need anything.”

Five minutes later and they were at altitude, soaring through the skies at speed whilst barely making a sound. Artemis eased off the controls and sat back, for once in his life, sighing disgruntledly. Butler was ready to listen.

“I don’t particularly understand why I’m feeling down either, old friend.” Artemis conceded, and indeed his expression was perplexed. “We were talking about what my father does and she was admiring the jet. Then she said, ‘you live a completely different life’. And I don’t really know why but I didn’t like that.”

Butler hummed, knowingly. Artemis clicked his tongue. “I don’t want any romance talk from you either, Butler. I don’t want to marry every female I meet. I would rather you did not make my friendship with her awkward from suggestive comments.”

Butler raised his huge palms, innocently. “I won’t say a thing.”

“Go on then, what do you think?”

“Friendship often comes about due to similar interests and an empathy that builds between you. It is based on understanding. When she said that you live a different life, it suggested that you could never understand each other and therefore cannot be friends.”

Artemis nodded slowly. “I would have said the same thing. It’s unusual to me … I’m trying very hard to be friends with her, Butler. And there’s a part of me that keeps saying ‘stop’. I have this dual impulse to be both over-friendly and dismissive with her.”

“That’s because you don’t want to get hurt.” Butler clapped his hand on Artemis’ shoulder, reassuringly. “Unfortunately, people around you have tended to have ulterior motives as I’m sure you have noticed. You don’t want her to turn out to be the same.”

“I know,” Artemis sighed again, running his hand through his hair. His attention was suddenly switched to one of his monitors, which displayed the letter F in large, translucent text. The F stood for Faery activity and required his fingerprint to access the full data. This was in case, for some reason, there was an ordinary person in the cockpit, for example his father. He unlocked the data and scrolled the map to view the radar view. A large aircraft had appeared onscreen. They were heading directly towards it as the craft was hovering. He would stay on path, as no doubt the craft would make way for them. It would only be suspicious if a human aircraft changed flight path.

“I wonder what they’re watching,” Artemis hummed, already completely fixated on the screens before him. His baffled emotions were quickly buried in the back of his mind. “Why would a faery craft be hovering over Wicklow?”

Butler wanted to tell Artemis to leave it, but he knew that was a redundant request. It was in the boy’s personality to question everything. He would find the answers to his question no matter what. This obsession with information was both a boon and his bane. Artemis was cursed to cling to problems like a Jack Russell snatches a rodent. There was no way he was letting this go. Already, Butler was recognising Foaley’s files up on the main screen as Artemis hacked away, searching for hits on various relevant terms. Some, Butler could comprehend and follow Artemis’ thought path. Others, as usual, made him feel completely estranged from the boy and his alien mind. _Wicklow, Broad Lough, The Wendy, Black Castle, Kraken, Red Mist, Piper’s Stones …_

Artemis began to trawl through the information at an astonishing speed. He thought aloud, which was rare, and Butler decided it was his way of being social and inviting him into the conversation.

“The Piper’s Stones are in Wicklow. It’s a set of stones arranged in a circle, roughly 23m in diameter. The interesting aspect of these stones is the tree within the ring of stones. When I was doing my original research into faeries prior to our initial escapade, this area was on my list of places to visit. Fortunately, we ended up successful on the first try at Tara. However, this would have been high on my list of choices.”

Butler listened silently, barely interested but not wanting to deter his charge from things that made him happy.

“It is said that humans were dancing in this field when God turned them into stone. Obviously, this is likely to be another tale passed down from some overzealous storyteller, however I have been reading into the stories about petrification. Mostly following our jaunt with the demons and No1.” Butler refrained from a sarcastic comment, barely. Artemis’ journey into the demon world was still a contentious issue. He found it hard to think of that period with any rose-tinted glasses. As usual, Artemis was too involved in his thought process to notice the tension in Butler’s brow. “What if, old friend, all these stone circles were the work of Warlocks. The existence of these stone circles is mostly inexplicable and furthermore, they all began and stopped around a similar timeline to our demon friends’ disappearance.”

Butler had to admit that this was intriguing. However, he was staunchly against Artemis getting involved in the faeries business. This already smelled like another world-ending plot hurtling towards them.

The aircraft’s dash began to glow orange and a phone icon flashed up on the screen. “Interesting.” Artemis commented. “Suspicious. Oh, and I’ve also been wanting to ask your opinion on something. If I were to make these jets public, I’d need to consider the interface. I used the icon of an old telephone for the screen, you see?” He gestured to the flashing icon. “I don’t know if that has become outdated. Some youngsters will grow up without ever seeing an actual telephone. Maybe we should invent a new icon. What do you think?”

“I’m thinking, are you going to answer that?” Butler asked. Artemis gave him a look of disgruntled disappointment and accepted the call with a slight protrusion of his lower lip.

“Hello,” Artemis chimed, already covering his pout with a smirk of self-satisfaction. “When did you manage to hack my jet, Foaley?”

“As much as it pains me to admit it, Artemis, I haven’t. I noticed your aircraft come within a kilometre of ours and knew you’d put 2 and 2 together to make 400. I had my files open and my computer sensed some dangerous activity. I imagine that’s you, mudboy.”

“What did you ring for?”

“To try and assess how much you know.” Foaley replied. Artemis tapped a few buttons and soon Foaley’s face emerged on the screen. He didn’t look happy.

Artemis shrugged, lightly. “Not much.” Foaley glared and let out a frustrated whinny.

“I’m warning you, Artemis. Stay out of this one. This is faery business. Oh, and hello Butler. How are you doing?”

“I’m getting increasingly ‘less fine’ as time goes by. Artemis, what is happening?”

“I had a hunch.” The boy replied, nonchalantly. Foaley was drumming his fingers on his e-board.

“If I tell you what it is, will you leave it be?” He bargained.

“You know, the more you overreact, the more interested I am.” Artemis couldn’t have looked more content with himself if he had tried. Foaley, meanwhile, stomped his hooves.

“Alright, mudboy. You asked for it. I’m telling Major Short. If needs be, I’ll tell your mother, too, and then mindwipe her after she’s given you a scolding.” The feed cut out, leaving a smug Artemis to turn to Butler, the glint of excitement in his eyes.

“No,” Butler said, firmly. “Whatever it is, no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! I made the mistake of having three ongoing, long fics at once. I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Feels like I've opened up a fresh can of worms, yummy.


	11. The Traitor Stands in Worse Case of Woe

Artemis clicked away on his virtual keyboard and the glint in his eyes took Butler back ten years. Which wasn’t exactly a good thing. The boy, well, adult now, had so much energy in him that Butler half expected him to start swinging his legs. The screen flickered too fast through various screens for Butler to keep up. He stopped trying to investigate what was going on after roughly five minutes of battling his brain over the faery jargon on screen. He felt sure that Artemis had set his screens to run in Gnommish on purpose. Butler had only a rudimentary comprehension of the language and certainly not enough of a grasp to keep up with Artemis’ rapid tying. Even his attempts to skim read for words he knew only increased the worry bubbling in his stomach.

“Artemis, can you please tell me what you’re doing?” He finally sighed, completely exhausted.

“I told you,” Artemis swallowed a smile, tapping one foot to a tune only he could hear, “There’s a few myths surrounding those rocks and I’m just doing a little harmless digging.”

“Harmless my left arse cheek,” Butler commented crudely, but he felt the situation called for it.

“Butler, why don’t you go and check on our guest? She must be feeling a little anxious. You can tell her that she can hook her mobile up to the info-tainment system, in case she’s worried about missing any calls.”

“Artemis, you promised your parents no more saving the world.” His tone was sombre now and the change in mood flipped Artemis’ mood immediately. Artemis took promises to his parents seriously. His fingers paused mid-air and he turned to Butler with a frown across his features.

“I did not promise them that, Old Friend. If that was the case, I wouldn’t be studying Climate Change. I promised them no more risky adventures with the faeries.”

“Which sounds like exactly what you’re plotting.”

“I’m hurt, Dom, that you’d think I’d be scheming.” The way Artemis placed his hand on his heart and used Butler’s first name sent alarm bells ringing in his head. He quashed them immediately, but the shadow of doubt still hung in his mind … because his behaviour had suddenly reminded Butler of Artemis when he had been in the clutches of Atlantis Complex. Once Artemis had moved through paranoia, he had begun to deceive Butler, using his silver tongue and gestures that were … misplaced in Artemis Fowl Junior. That tone of voice had just hit too hard, he supposed, and brought back memories he did not like. Though, that did leave the question, was Artemis trying to deceive him? Was that what his gut was telling him?

Artemis continued. “How much harm can I do from 30,000 feet?”

Butler regarded Artemis for a second and decided to leave without comment, closing the door to the cockpit behind him with a heavy sigh. Immediately, Katherina raised her head curiously. She tried a small smile at Butler and the ever-aging bodyguard managed a grimace in return.

“Problem?” She asked, seeming genuinely concerned. Maybe she thought the aircraft was about to nosedive out of the clouds.

“Teenage boy genius, that’s the problem.” He replied and Katherina continued to smile in a friendly manner that suggested that she hadn’t a clue what Butler was talking about. Well, she _was_ new to the Fowl family. She clearly did not have much experience with their shenanigans. Hopefully, that wasn’t about to change any time soon. Butler lowered himself into the seat opposite Katherina. The inside of the jet had a total of eight seats situated in groups of four, two of which faced the rear of the plane. The seats were such as the type you may expect in a first-class airline, more like little sofa beds than chairs. The backs were rounded to cocoon their operators, whilst also being able to recline 180 degrees. The screen for the infotainment system was on a post that could be telescopically raised or lowered, as well as tilted, to suit the occupant. Katherina reached forward to lower hers to allow her to see Butler’s face more clearly. The white leather seat which enveloped her seemed to shrink in size when Butler perched upon it.

“Have you worked for the Fowl family for long?” Katherina asked.

“Since he was born. And somewhat before.”

“You must be like a second father to him, then?”

Butler did chuckle a little. “No one could ever replace Artemis Fowl Senior. Whenever I thought there could never be a man like Artemis Fowl Junior, I would always remind myself that his father had been just as mischievous back in the day. And now, Myles …” He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. “If I’m honest, Miss Palmer, I’ve had enough adventure in my life. I don’t think I’d be able to cope with another.”

Her eyes glinted a little. “Where have you been? Have you travelled?”

“Almost everywhere,” Butler nodded, “from the tallest skyscrapers to the dingiest downtown ditches. Though most of the time I was far too concerned with the topic of keeping one young master Fowl alive to be sightseeing.”

“That’s a shame,” Katherina agreed. “What do you mean, keeping him alive? Are there many people out to hurt him?”

At this point, Butler could not even laugh. It was beyond funny how many enemies Artemis had made over the years. She couldn’t be allowed to know all the details, but he would tell her as much as she would be able to find in the public domain. “The Fowls have not always been … morally driven. For centuries, their empire was driven by fraud, schemes, and heists. There is something in their genetics that makes them cry out for knowledge and an intellectual challenge – or so Artemis believes. He says, what could be more challenging than being the villain? To pull off a great feat without getting caught, reaping the rewards for years later, writing the legends that others speculate about. There’s a theory that an extrovert’s mental activity is lower than average, or their tolerance for certain stimulant chemicals is higher, which is why they constantly seek external stimulation. Introverts, on the other hand, have a much lower tolerance and a higher mental activity, so even small amounts of external stimulation can tire them out. The Fowls have both a high tolerance level for stimulation and a higher brain activity than average. So, they must constantly seek external stimulation whilst still having a greater base level of brain activity. Or that is about what he said to me recently. I only half-listen to him, most of the time.”

“Was Artemis also … playing the villain?”

“In his early days, very much so. To his current self’s deep regret. As smart as the boy is, the stupidest thing he ever did was develop a conscience.” Butler contorted his face as he thought for a moment, considering whether his next point should be shared with Katherina. Looking into her eyes, he saw a normal young woman. Not an enemy. Not a child genius like Minerva. He gave her something mentally that he rarely shared with anyone … a shard of trust. Artemis was still suffering, he thought, and Butler had long since run out of people to turn to. He needed others around him, and he needed a push to acquire them. So, Butler decided to reveal a private chapter of the story of Artemis Fowl. “He … has suffered some mental repercussions because of his actions. He has developed a dark corner in his mind and I sometimes can’t get him out of it.”

Katherina nodded slowly, tilting her head a little as she listened. Butler continued, “For a while he was extremely ill. And I sometimes worry he’ll fall back down that path.”

“I don’t think … he has many friends.” Katherina declared, and Butler could see that she was reading between the lines.

“Exactly,” Butler replied. “Not that I am pressuring yourself to make friends with him – things like that should of course be natural … but …”

“No, you’re worried, I understand.” She dropped her gaze to her lap whilst she thought. “I’m a little surprised, if I’m honest. Not that there’s a ‘type of person’ who suffers from mental illnesses but …”

“He doesn’t seem so vulnerable, does he?”

She agreed, “Nothing seems to affect him and at times I’ve thought him to be quite cold-hearted.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to say that.”

“Though I had not realised just how much of a child genius he was. I had heard the rumours, but you can never tell how many of them are fairy tales just spun out of proportion.”

“ _Fairy tales, huh_ ,” Butler chuckled at the irony. “Just assume they are all true and work backwards from there. The more you expect from Artemis Fowl, the less you can be surprised.”

The overhead speaker system binged, and Artemis’ voice came through clear as day. “I hope you’re not boring our guest with silly stories, Butler,” he said, and Butler winced like the boy could read his mind. “Could you come through, please? We have a friend on the phone. Also, Katherina, we shouldn’t be more than 30 minutes now.”

Butler got to his feet and could feel the ache of every instance he had nearly died creaking through his bones.

“Don’t work too hard now,” Katherina called after him. Butler gave her a thumbs up and replied,

“Don’t fret too hard about your father. Dads are tougher than you think.”

Butler had an idea who would be on the phone before he entered the room. Something about Foaley’s parting comment suggested that another of their faery friends would be in contact soon. Indeed, as soon as he closed the cockpit door behind him, Holly’s sceptical eyes were blinking suspiciously at the inhabitants of the room: one blue, one green.

“Fowl,” she scowled, arms tightly crossed, “Care to explain why Foaley is hurtling round his tech shuttle at the speed of knots, whinnying something about a stupid mudboy about to destroy the world?”

“Again, I’m hurt Commodore Short.” Artemis raised his hands innocently. “Congratulations on that promotion, by the way.”

“Answer the question, Arty. What are you snooping into now?”

“Honestly, Foaley spends his life trying to hack into my surveillance cameras and then complains as soon as I peek into yours.”

“There is more at stake here than a little of your privacy – there are faery lives on the line. And human. Good Frond, why is this always the case.” She placed her head in her hands.

“You cut your hair, Holly.” Artemis commented. “It looks good.”

“Someone called me the ‘crazy girly Captain’ again the other day. And then I saw Lily Frond with her long hair, fluttering her eye lashes around the station trying to get the attention of Trouble. I felt like I wanted to distance myself from that imagery as much as I could, so I went back to the crew cut.”

“How dare they.” Artemis tittered.

“We’re not changing subject, Arty.”

“I wouldn’t even think of it.” He clicked through a few menus and brought something onto his screen. It was an overhead image of the circle of stones they had flown by earlier. “I have decided, Holly, that the best way we can resolve this issue is for you to provide me with a full brief on your concerns with the Stone People. That way, you will satisfy my curiosity. Then, I will resolve your issue. We both win.”

“I may have been promoted but there is no rank high enough to sign off on that. The faery people hate you, Artemis. I would lose my job for revealing confidential information to you.”

“You know for a fact I will find out what I want to know, regardless of whether you tell me yourself.”

“How about you go back to school and continue with your human life? Why do you need to hack into our servers? Which, by the way, is illegal. So much for your newfound integrity.”

“You know that it is not illegal, Holly, as I am a human and therefore do not fall under faery law.”

“You know that may be true, Artemis, but you will also know that we recently passed a law that anyone is considered under faery law once they are under the surface. The moment you cross the threshold you are an arrestable individual. That law was for you, mudboy. And the future trouble causers I know your brothers will be.”

“Rude,” Artemis said, dejectedly. “My brothers haven’t done anything to warrant such scepticism. Yet.”

“Yet being the key word.”

“If you were not willing to negotiate, why would you ring me, Holly?”

Holly sighed and finally unfolded her arms. _She wants to be frank with me_ , Artemis thought, suddenly uneasy. _She is opening her arms to appear friendly and understanding. Which means nothing good can come next._

“I’m genuinely worried about you, Arty.” She began and in Artemis’ books, this was already a bad start. She was launching into another lecture he did not want to listen to. For heavens sake, he got this from his father, Butler, his mother, even Myles sometimes. “The last time I saw you, you were utterly exhausted. I told you that you should forget all your projects, take some time for yourself. I feel like you’re dying for something to do, which is why you’re jumping at this new toy you’ve found.”

“Nice of you to degrade an entire lost species of faery to a new toy.” Artemis interrupted, which was wholly unlike him. “Some may take offence to that.”

“And there would be no banshees left to do so.” Holly cut in. He could tell she was getting more agitated by the minute. “Honestly, Artemis, you don’t know what you’re dealing with here.”

For a second, Artemis jolted physically and was mentally sent back to when he was twelve years old and Holly, an enemy at the time, had first said those words to him. He found that the comment genuinely stung; there was a sharp pain in his chest that Holly had used that phrase again, as though he was the same person he had been. It was like they were enemies again. Holly seemingly realised the same thing and began to backtrack.

“I’m just asking you to stay your curiosities this time. If you get involved with this, you could spark a civil war amongst the faeries. At the least, I’d lose my job – the council would find some way to blame you finding out on me.”

“Well technically you have inadvertently revealed some key details to me in our short conversation.” Artemis decided to change tactics. “Every time you have tried to shut me out of these things, the faeries have needed me eventually. I usually get dragged in somehow. What sense does it make not to use me as a friend to the People?”

“The People are not your friends, Artemis,” Holly said, also changing tactics. For once, her tone was without the sort of warmth it usually held for him. “I may be your friend, but your real friends are _human_.”

Artemis’ face tightened as he struggled to hold his expression – his mouth threatened to hang open in shock. Even Butler winced.

“I … understand Commodore Short.” Artemis began to fiddle with the ring on his finger, which acted as a faery communicator. He removed it and dropped it into his pocket. “I will not interfere. And I will not contact you again unless it is strictly necessary.” He reached across to tap the ‘end call’ button, hesitating for a second. Holly’s face dropped as she realised that she had stepped over the line and actually _hurt_ Artemis.

“Wait, Arty-,” She began, but Artemis ended the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all staying positive and testing negative! And hope you enjoyed this chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings Fowl fans, nice to see the fandom is still alive (assuming anyone is reading this!). We survived the wait!


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